Damaged Defenders
by Sherza
Summary: Thor realizes Loki is not himself. Tony knows and has done work for Charles Xavier. He is also friends with Warren Worthington III. Steve keeps his promise to Erskine. These simple facts, among others, change *everything* when Loki comes to Earth and the Chitauri come calling, and what happens after.
1. Tony

Full Summary: Thor takes a good look at Loki once he has hauled him back onto the quinjet, and realizes that there is something odd about Loki's eyes. Thor has grown and changed much in the last year, and no longer takes anything for granted. So he starts asking questions. It doesn't take long to figure out that Loki is not acting of his own free will.

Tony Stark knows what it is to be forced to do as an enemy commands. Steve Rogers has seen the atrocities manipulative madmen are willing to commit. Clint, Logan, Bruce and Natasha have been subjected to said madmen. They all know what it is to lose themselves, and to seek redemption.

Together, this band of broken heroes draws a line in the sand. They will not tolerate any tyrant, foreign or domestic. That includes Nick Fury and the WSC, who have used everyone on the team for their own aims. It includes Thaddeus 'Thunderbolt' Ross, who has hunted Bruce against all reason. It includes Odin, who treats his sons like commodities. And it includes Thanos, who has delusions of conquering Earth.

Along the way, they learn to trust each other. They learn to help each other. They become a family.

Notes:

The following movies are canon for this fic in their entirety:

Hulk (2003), Iron Man 1, Thor, Iron Man 2, Captain America: The First Avenger, X-Men 1

Films that are partially canon:

Incredible Hulk: Bruce kicking tail in Harlem, General Ross chasing Bruce all over, and Bruce gaining some degree of control over hulking out. Everything else is ignored.

Avengers: The movie up to the Forest Fight with Tony, Steve and Thor is canon. After that, I start changing things, but unless I specifically state otherwise, things that happened in the movie still occur. I'm just not going to write them out in their entirety.

Timeline: The MCU movies happened in the canon order. X-Men 1 takes place approximately six months before the Avengers movie. Magneto's plastic prison is a SHIELD facility.

Each chapter will be from a particular character(s) point of view. That character(s) name will be the chapter title.

**Tony**

A/N: I own nothing at all to do with Marvel, the Avengers or the X-Men. Please don't sue.

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"Yeah, no. Bad idea! He loves his ... " Tony started to warn Rogers, only to get cut off by a slam from said hammer that sent him flying. He hit hard enough to rattle his brain in his skull, and it took him a second to clear his vision. What he saw horrified him. Thor was high in the air, hammer swinging, clearly intending to make Rogers a smear in the dirt.

Frantic calculations raced through his mind. He knew vibranium was tough, but Thor's hammer was something else entirely, and Tony had no idea if the shield would survive the blow. He started to lift one hand, trying to track Thor's arc, hoping to cut him off, but the suit was malfunctioning, the power fizzing and sparking unpredictably thanks to that lightning strike earlier. He'd upgraded the suit to deal with energy attacks after Vanko, which was why the suit was still functioning at all, but absorbing and then using that much energy had overstressed some of the systems. In the end, all Tony could do was close his eyes, unwilling to watch as Captain America very probably got smeared into the dirt.

The noise when hammer and shield met defied all description. Tony was fairly sure that if the suit's speakers hadn't cut out as they'd been designed to do if sound got past certain decibels, he'dve gone at least temporarily deaf. The shockwave was strong enough to roll him over, which was more than a little alarming.

The devastation to the surrounding forest when he opened his eyes was breathtaking. Everything in a several-hundred-feet radius had been not just flattened, but destroyed. Huge old trees had been turned into so many toothpicks and kindling, and the smaller trees and underbrush had simply ceased to exist entirely.

Stunningly, Rogers was not only alive, but apparently unharmed, standing there as calm as you please. Tony stared at him for a moment, a bit dumbfounded.

"Jarvis, do me a favor and scan Rogers, would you?"

"Captain Rogers is entirely unharmed." Jarvis said after a moment.

"Holy shit. That's some shield." Tony breathed as he struggled to his feet, fighting against sluggish joints.

He walked over to the two, braced to hit Thor again if he tried something, but Thor seemed to be as dumbfounded as Tony was. As Rogers was, Tony realized when he got close enough to get a good look at Rogers' eyes.

"Are we done here?" Rogers tried for an authoritative tone, but it came much closer to sounding hopeful.

They were silent a moment longer before Tony had to speak up. "Yeah, I'm definitely done." He said.

Thor gave his head a bit of a shake. "My apologies. I should not have behaved so rashly." He said after a moment. Then he grimaced a bit. "Or so arrogantly. I must collect Loki before he takes advantage of our distraction and departs."

"We need him." Tony said, still braced for a resumption of the fight. "He knows where the Tesseract is. Once he gives it up, you can hang him from a flagpole for all I care, but until then ... "

To his surprise, this time Thor just nodded. "Fair enough, as I must have access to the Tesseract in order to return to Asgard."

"At least we have someplace for the jet to land." Rogers said, eyeing their surroundings.

Tony laughed. "Don't need it. Thor flies, I fly. He carries Loki, I take you."

Rogers didn't look too thrilled by the idea, but eventually agreed to it. It would be easier than the inevitable hassle of landing the jet in a small clear area at night. A clear area that was covered in rubble, that was.

Thor headed up to the rocks where Loki had settled in to watch the fight. Tony hesitated long enough to mentally compute the best way to get Rogers back up to the plane.

"Rogers, stand behind me and grab my shoulders or my waist, one of the two. I need both hands free." Tony couldn't wait until the suit with the jet pack was finished. Sometimes, needing both hands to fly was a real hassle. Once Steve got in position, Tony switched over to the frequency Romanov was using. "Agent Romanov. We've got Loki back, and are heading up to you." He told her.

"Copy that. We're circling directly over that new clearing you boys made." She told him.

Tony rolled his eyes. "Blame that on Capsicle and Hammer Boy, not me." He told her, then cut back to Rogers. "Hang on tight, we're heading up."

It was the effort of only a few moments to fly back up to the jet. Tony made a few mental notes, because if the Avengers were actually going to be a thing, carrying someone might become a regular occurrence, and he'd need to make some adjustments to the suit accordingly.

Tony nearly cracked up when Thor solved the problem of ensuring that Loki didn't escape by plonking his hammer in the crazed god's lap. But then things got a bit weird.

Thor had seemed casual enough when he plonked Mjolnir in Loki's lap, but then he suddenly got right in Loki's face. He frowned, then reached out to rub a thumb under one of Loki's eyes.

Tony decided to speak up. "Problem, Thor?"

"I believe so, yes." Thor said, then pulled back from Loki. "Loki's eyes are blue. Last I saw him, they were green." He frowned at Loki. "My brother's skill at illusions is great, but they are dispelled by touch. His eyes did not change when I rubbed under his eye."

Rogers frowned. "You think something odd's going on?"

"It is possible. I know not what, precisely, but something is amiss. Now I think on it, his speech to me makes no sense. Either he was deliberately misremembering events or ... "

"Or something's going on." Rogers filled in.

"Nothing to say, Reindeer Games?" Tony asked, having noticed that Loki had stayed silent while they talked it over.

Loki just smirked at him like this was the world's greatest game, and continued to say nothing.

Which made Thor frown even more heavily. "Nay, this is not my brother's normal behavior." He said. "He has ever been one to use words as weapons. Silence is most unlike him."

"We'll figure it out, Thor." Tony told him.

"Could it be mind control of some sort? He managed to subvert two of ours, according to Director Fury. With that stick of his." Romanov finally piped in from the cockpit.

That made Tony turn to look at Loki's glowstick. "He have that before?" He asked Thor.

Thor shook his head.

"Which means he either built it or someone gave it to him." Tony said, mind whirring. "Could he have made it?"

Thor shook his head again. "I do not believe so. Loki's strength lies in trickery and magic, not weaponcraft. There are few in our realm who would have the gift to make such a weapon."

"Which means it probably got given to him." Tony said. "Maybe by the head Chitauri?"

Unfortunately there really wasn't time to hash it out more, as they were approaching the helicarrier. Tony broke off from the rest of them to head for his armor vault and the robots that assembled and removed the armor.

From there, he headed to the bridge. He didn't trust Fury as far as he could throw the bastard. Tony had not forgotten, nor forgiven, the fact that Fury had damn well had a way to extend his lifespan with that crap he had Romanov stab him with long before he had Romanov stab him. And had had the key to Tony's ultimate survival in his hands and had not seen fit to hand it over until Tony was at death's door. Then the bastard had had the gall to break into his house and disable Jarvis.

Tony had pretended to make nice, had pretended to want to play with the big boys, but Fury seemed to have forgotten he was dealing with the man who had built an armored, flying suit and *destroyed* the people who had fucked with him. Fury's arrogance was going to be the bastard's downfall. The best part of it was that Fury was handing Tony the means to bring him down on a golden platter.

He was handing Tony the Avengers. And the best part was, if he knew Fury at all, Tony wouldn't actually have to do a damn thing to turn them against Fury. Fury'd do it all on his own, somehow. Tony just hoped that Jarvis got a recording of Fury's reaction when he realized what had happened.

Tony blew onto the bridge, his 'I am an extremely eccentric billionaire' mask firmly in place. It was the work of mere moments to get Jarvis' uplink into the helicarrier's computer in place without anyone the wiser.

He headed for the conference room, only to run into Coulson along the way. His opinion on the man was ... somewhat divided. On the one hand, Coulson had threatened to taze him. On the other, the man had then promptly left Tony the hell alone, and turned a blind eye to Tony leaving the mansion against 'orders'. He had also helped Pepper, back during the Stane thing, which earned the man a lot of points with Tony. It helped that Pepper liked him, and Tony trusted her judgment. So he was willing to play nicely until Coulson either fucked up or stood up to Fury, one of the two.

The first person in the room he headed for was Banner. He'd put Jarvis on not only finding Betty, but digging up every scrap of dirt on her old man that Jarvis could find. When things settled down, Tony fully intended to get the woman out of harm's way at the very least. Hire her, if he could manage it. She was every bit as bright as Bruce was, and quite frankly her brilliance was being wasted on the Army projects she was 'permitted' (read: forced, probably) to work on.

He intended to give Bruce his protection as well. Sometimes, being him was a godsend. There really weren't all that many people who were stupid enough to try to cross him, and Bruce would finally be safe under Tony's protection.

Internally, Tony fumed, because Bruce was standing well away from everyone else, and even World War Two's Golden Boy was making no effort to reach out or include the man. It was a petty retaliation, but Tony completely ignored everyone else while he talked science with Bruce. Only when they'd wrapped up their discussion of how the portal could be opened and controlled did he deign to turn his attention to everyone else at the table.

"We need to lock that spear thing somewhere safe." Rogers finally said. "Agent Romanov said something about Loki using it to control two of your people?" He looked over at Fury.

Fury looked very, very sour about admitting that it was the truth.

"If it can do that, we need to be cautious of what else the thing can do." Rogers said. "And the less anyone is around it, the better."

"We need to scan it to make sure we've got the scanners calibrated right, and to have a shot at figuring out how to unscramble the folks that are being controlled, but that won't take more than about five minutes." Tony said. "After that, you can bury the thing wherever." He turned to Bruce, and grinned broadly, impishly. "Shall we, my good doctor?" He asked, holding out one arm like he was going to escort a woman into a party.

Bruce gave him an amused look, and to Tony's surprise, actually went with it, mostly. "We should. Follow me, if you would, good sir." Bruce grinned at Tony, then turned and led the way to the lab he'd been given to use.

Tony dropped his arm with a mock-pout, but headed out right on Bruce's heels.


	2. Bruce and Thor

Bruce and Thor

A/N: Disclaimer's in the first chapter.

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Bruce had always known he'd been living free on borrowed time. He'd always known someone would try to nab him ... again. So he'd barely even blinked at Romanov's appearance. He'd even expected to be lied to and double crossed, so the existence of the squad of men hadn't been anything like a surprise.

But just because he'd expected it didn't mean the other guy hadn't been growling, grumbling, and itching to get out more than usual ever since Romanov showed up. It was taking every calming technique Bruce knew to keep the other guy from breaking free, just from the sheer stress of the situation, nevermind the fact he felt about as safe as a mouse at a rodent hunter's convention.

He weathered the suspicious, wary standoffishness of everyone around him, and their tendency to reach for their weapons when he got too close, or looked anything but meek. It was nothing more than what he'd come to expect from people who knew what he really was, and what the other guy was capable of.

Which had made Tony Stark so startling.

The man had breezed into the room like he hadn't a care in the world, and had cozied right up to Bruce, chattering happily, and without so much as the faintest hint of hesitance, nevermind fear. If it hadn't been for the 'rage monster' comment, Bruce would have wondered if Tony knew about the other guy, to be so nonchalant. Now, he was just wondering about the man's sanity. And trying not to ache for Betty too much, because Tony was reminding him a lot of her.

Even though he'd been at the back end of nowhere for the last couple years, he knew of Tony, and had heard about the changes Tony had made in his company. He'd expected the man to be eccentric and pretty much a waste of air, that someone in the company had actually been the one to build the things Stark Industries churned out and Tony was just taking credit for it. Tony was anything but that. Bruce, for the first time, found himself struggling to keep up with someone else's intellect. And he was adoring every minute of it.

More interestingly, the other guy had begun to back off a bit. Bruce wasn't sure if it was the fact Tony reminded him so much of Betty that was doing it, or what, but the other guy was clearly not tracking Tony as a threat. Not even the poke in the side made the other guy get restless.

They spent a companionable half hour or so scanning the stick, then calibrating to search for the Tesseract. At that point, Tony started monkeying around with the helicarrier's computer system, clearly searching for something even as they talked.

Inevitably, the other guy came up in conversation. Bruce found himself admitting to something he'd never really told anyone, even Betty. How raw and exposed he felt had always been his secret. She'd known he didn't like it, of course, but she hadn't known the full extent.

Tony's attempt to convince him that the other guy could be a good thing had been ... unexpectedly touching. He'd heard that sort of argument before, of course, but never from the angle Tony approached it from. Bruce had only really ever heard about how the other guy could be an asset to the military if properly ... focused. Bruce didn't really believe Tony was right, but it was nice to hear.

Steve stopped by right about the time Tony poked him, and Bruce sighed mentally at Steve's immediate concern. For god's sake, he was not that fragile. If he was, he'd never have come anywhere near this place except in chains. Which would have been an epically bad idea on the part of anyone trying to get him into chains.

Tony didn't seem to like Steve very much, which made Bruce wonder what the deal was there. At any rate, Tony managed to chase Steve out, and they went back to their work.

They were interrupted again shortly after that by Fury, who was ... displeased ... that Tony had somehow hacked into the helicarrier's computers. Steve showed up about the same time, carrying a big, awkward looking gun, and there was a bit of an angry discussion before Fury turned and stalked out. Steve gave them both considering looks, then nodded and left as well.

About five minutes later, out of nowhere, the room exploded.

Bruce barely even felt his landing and took no real notice of his surroundings once he hit. Because he was already fighting like a madman to keep the other guy at bay. The other guy was raging, howling to be freed, fighting Bruce's control with everything it had.

And then, to his complete horror, he heard Tony's voice. Worse, Tony's voice close by. Bruce redoubled his efforts to get control of the other guy, terrified it'd kill Tony if it got out. It took him a minute or two to make sense of what Tony was saying.

Which is when he realized Tony was cracking jokes. Horrible, groan-worthy ancient science jokes that Bruce more or less had to laugh at in sheer self defense, they were that bad. And incredibly, the other guy began to recede.

When he was finally back in complete control, he discovered he was sprawled on the floor amidst the wreckage of the lab, only a floor down. He was more than slightly sweaty and shaky from the effort to keep the other guy from coming out, and Tony was crouched a few feet away, looking supremely unconcerned, for a man who'd come to within a hairsbreadth of meeting the other guy.

"You back with me, Brucie?" Tony wanted to know.

"Yeah." Bruce said. "I ... thanks." He said, not quite sure what else to say.

"Not a problem. Listen, you hang out here, ok? I need to go help kick ass." Tony said, then handed Bruce something. "Communicator. It only goes to my suit, so you won't be accidentally hearing what else is going on. You start feeling growly again, give me a yell. I can tell jokes all day."

Bruce gave Tony a stunned look, then gave him a hesitant smile. "Thank you." He said quietly.

Tony nodded and took off. Bruce put the communicator in his ear, incredibly grateful that he'd have help keeping control while things were getting violent. Because letting the other guy out up here would be incredibly bad.

Thor had little to do while the Midgardians looked for the Tesseract, so he opted to spend time by the cage Loki had been placed in. It gave him time to think.

He had begun to learn a lesson, the last time he'd been here on Midgard. He wasn't quite sure it was the lesson Odin had wanted him to learn, though. Oh, to be sure, he had begun to learn restraint and foresight, rather than rushing into battle blindly and with no thought to the consequences, but he had begun to learn other things as well.

Things like thinking for himself, and not obeying blindly. Like not automatically assuming that Odin was infallible. Thor had spent much of the last year going over his childhood in his mind, and had finally realized that there had been things amiss as far back as he could remember, where Loki had been concerned. Things Odin had said, had done, or had encouraged. Things his friends had said, done, and encouraged. And worst, things he had said and done and encouraged.

Thor had begun to understand why Loki had gone so far astray when Thor had been banished. The true miracle was that it had not happened before now. Thor had been ... troubled ... by how little many in Asgard had mourned the loss of their youngest prince. Thor had taken to spending more and more time with his mother, one of the few in the realm who truly mourned Loki's death. They had become much closer as a result, not that they'd ever been estranged. And then Odin had revealed that Loki was alive, and headed to Earth.

Thor's first thought had been to wonder just how long Odin had known Loki was alive. His second had been incredible gratitude that Loki was alive. His third had been a grim determination to save his brother and protect him. He'd had little hope it would work, at least at first. Now, knowing that Loki might well be being controlled, hope for Loki's salvation was restored.

He was still chiding himself for his rather severe lapse in control earlier. He still did not entirely understand what had possessed him, to try to smash Captain Rogers so. He'd had no idea the mortal's shield was so formidable. By all rights, the mortal ought to have been smashed to bits, which would have been very poorly done of him, especially since the man had only asked him to put his hammer down and talk peaceably. Evidently he still had much to learn still when it came to restraint and foresight.

Loki seemed content to keep his silence, yet further proof he was not himself. Under any other circumstance, he would have had something to say about Thor hanging about the way he was.

Thor had actually almost dozed off when the flying machine they rode in shook like horse ridding its coat of water. There was a near-instant scramble from the midgardians, and Thor quickly realized there was some threat afoot. Possibly Loki's mind-controlled cohorts. Thor started to grab his hammer, then stopped himself. These were mortals. The ones called Stark and Banner aside, none of them had the strength or armor to deflect a blow from Mjolnir. To strike any of them would be to kill them. His fists would be weapon enough. He left Mjolnir sitting by Loki's cage and hurried off to assist in the defense.

He could hear someone, a female by the tenor of the voice, speaking, alerting everyone as to the flying machine's status and the whereabouts of the attackers. As he did not know the layout of the machine, he mostly ignored her announcements and followed his ears to where the battle was being fought.

The attackers knew what they were about. Though Thor managed to take the first by surprise, thanks to coming up on him from behind, the man got over the surprise quickly enough and proved to be an able combatant. Thor well remembered the running battle he had engaged in, last time he'd been on Midgard, and this man was of equal or greater skill to the men he'd had to fight then. It was a bit easier this time, as he was not stripped of his powers, but not by much.

He'd left the first man behind, knocked unconscious and sprawled on the floor, and had begun to contend with a second when the flying machine unexpectedly started to tilt, throwing him off his feet and sending both him and his opponent tumbling into one of the nearby walls. Thor managed to recover himself first, and was able to knock the second man out before he regained his feet.

Thor made his way forward, with a bit more difficulty now that the machine was tilted, seeking any other opponents. He heard Director Fury's voice saying something about someone named Barton, then Agent Romanov answering him.

About a minute later, the machine righted itself, and within moments of that, Agent Romanov's voice sounded again, saying she had Barton in custody and he seemed to be himself again. A minute or two later, it was determined that all their opponents had been subdued. Fury told them to head for the conference room.

Thor immediately made his way there, wondering if Agent Romanov was correct and that Barton was himself. If he was one of the ones that had been controlled, that would mean there might be a feasible way to return Loki to himself.


	3. Natasha, Clint, and Steve

Natasha, Clint and Steve

A/N: Disclaimer's in the first chapter.

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Natasha was moving the moment the helicarrier started to shake, not even waiting for anyone to start giving orders. Something had just happened, and given the situation, it was entirely likely they now had hostiles aboard the helicarrier.

Good thing. Natasha needed something to take her anger out on, other than Loki. The others had no idea how hard she'd had to fight the urge to try to break the bastard's neck before Thor said something about him not acting right, and the possibility of him being controlled was brought up.

Natasha's life had been ... brutal, to put it gently. She'd been a tool almost her entire life. Something to be used and then stored away or worse, tossed aside until needed. Then Clint had happened. He was the first person she'd ever encountered that had seen her as a person, not a tool. He'd brought her in instead of killing her. And Coulson had gone to bat for her.

She would kill and die for them, instantly and without regret or remorse. They belonged to her and were under her protection and it burned like the strongest acid that Clint had been taken. Phil had fought Fury's decision to split them up, had tried to reason with him, Natasha knew, but Fury had forced the issue. Now they were paying the price. She was going to kill Fury for this. Slowly. Painfully. In the most brutal way she knew.

Such was her anger that the first invader she encountered went down to a knife in the throat in three seconds flat. The second fell to a jolt from her gauntlets, twitching spastically on the floor. The third at least saw her coming, and thus provided a bit more of a fight, forcing her to use a few of her martial arts moves. Pitifully few, unfortunately. Clearly, he hadn't been one for hand to hand combat.

Then Fury's voice came over the comms, saying that Barton was aboard, and heading for the jets in order to escape.

Natasha took off like a bat out of hell. She was fully aware that anyone in his path might try to kill him if they saw him. This, she could not allow, nor tolerate. They *would* find a way to break the mind control. But only if she got to Clint first. Everyone else would shoot to kill. She, on the other hand, would fight to detain him.

Fortunately, her reputation preceded her, and the agents she encountered were swift to get out of her way, which allowed her to move more rapidly than she otherwise would. She finally spotted Clint and snuck up behind him.

Unfortunately, Clint's code name was not mere chance or hyperbole. As befit his reputation as the best marksman on the planet, his vision was incredible ... including his peripheral vision. He didn't have to turn his head to see her coming.

But her familiarity with him allowed her to know what his first response would be, so she was able to intercept and deflect his attempt to put an arrow in her. After that, the fight became something of a mad scramble. They both knew each other's fighting styles very well, which made it difficult to outwit each other, and Natasha was further hampered by her desire to merely detain Clint, rather than kill him, while he was clearly not operating under a similar restraint.

Eventually she managed to hit him hard enough that he fell and smacked his head rather hard on the catwalk they were fighting on. He gave his head a shake and did not immediately leap to the attack. Instead, he looked up at her, expression confused, and called her by her nickname.

Natasha wasn't about to lose her advantage, so she belted him a second time, knocking him unconscious. Then she called for Phil, who'd been somewhere else in the carrier helping with the defense, to get him to help her haul Clint to a secure room. Natasha was, unfortunately, nowhere near strong enough to carry or drag Clint quite that far on her own.

Phil arrived a few moments later, and gave Clint's unconscious body a look. To pretty much anyone else, it would have been a bland, inscrutable look, but to Natasha, who'd known Phil for years, and had worked closely with him that entire time, he looked worried and relieved.

Together, they hauled him to a room where he could be restrained and watched. Clint came awake a minute later, shaking his head and looking very confused.

"You have heart."

Clint was going to have nightmares about those words for the rest of his life, thanks to what had followed. The spear's touch had burned. Burned his blood, boiling it in his veins. Burned his mind, turning his will to ash. And in its wake, had been Loki.

Obey Loki. Worship Loki. Anticipate Loki's wants and needs. Tell Loki everything he wanted to know, and more besides.

It had been a mantra. No, more than that. It had been all he had been capable of. Anything and everything else had been shoved into the depths and locked away. Forcing the still rational part of Clint to sit there and watch in horror as he bent over backwards to please a mad godling. And just to add insult to injury, the bastard hadn't let them sleep, and had barely remembered to tell them to feed and water themselves.

Clint had been gibbering in horror from the moment he and the mercenaries got on the jet to head for the helicarrier. He was going to end up killing his own people. He might not like most of them, and didn't trust most of them as far as he could throw them, but he had never wanted to kill any of them.

By some miracle, he caught something of a break. They didn't encounter too many people. Or at least, he didn't. He'd been able to shoot the computer and leave without having to kill anyone he knew. Then Nat had come out of nowhere, and he'd gone right back to gibbering in horror. Please, gods, don't let him kill her.

He should have known he didn't have a chance in hell. It was a bit of a relief when he went down. The sudden loosening of the control he'd been under was completely unexpected, but before he could really do anything about it, his world went dark.

He woke on a bed, in restraints. And himself, for the first time in days. The mantra was gone. He was exhausted, dehydrated, and hungry as hell, but he was himself. Now he just had to convince Nat of that. Oh, and Phil, he mentally amended, as his handler came into his line of vision.

"Ow. What the hell did you do to me?" He ground out.

"Cranial recalibration." Natasha said, almost but not quite smirking. "I hit you really hard on the head." Then she gave him a penetrating look. "Are you tracking?" She wanted to know.

"Yeah." He said, then gave his head another shake. "How many ... " He started.

"Don't do that ... " Natasha started, only for Phil to speak over her.

"There have actually been no casualties that can be attributed to you, Clint. Injuries, yes. Deaths, no. Even the man whose eye was used to open the vault survived. Last word from Stuttgart was that he lost the eye, but that he would live." Phil told Clint. "And I haven't heard any deaths reported here on the helicarrier." Then he bent down to look Clint in the eye. "And you were not acting of your own free will, so you will not blame yourself for those injuries. Am I clear, Agent Barton?"

Clint couldn't help but grin at Phil a little. "Clear, sir."

Phil nodded and stood up. "I think we can remove the restraints, Natasha. Let Fury know. We might be able to use this on Loki."

"What do you mean?" Clint wanted to know, pulling his arms away from the bed as Natasha undid the restraints.

"We think Loki may be being controlled as well." Phil told him. "Can you confirm that?"

Clint shook his head. "If he was, he never said. And it wasn't like the control gave me a telepathic connection to him or anything, to pick up on his state of mind."

"Well, we ought to be able to find out soon enough." Phil said.

Steve Rogers was not the biggest fan of Nick Fury or of SHIELD.

Steve had been able to understand them wanting to break the truth to him gently, and thus putting him in a 1940's style room to wake up. He could even appreciate it, because waking up in the sort of medical room he now knew existed would have sent him straight into battle mode, sure he'd been found and incarcerated by Hydra.

But he disliked Fury's continuing manipulations, his insistence on tucking Steve away, and keeping Steve surrounded by things from the 40's. Fury insisted he was trying to keep Steve from overloading, but Steve wasn't buying it.

It was convenient that Fury seemed to have bought into a dolled-up version of who Steve was ... some sort of perfect soldier, who always obeyed orders and so on. Clearly, the man had either never seen or paid no attention to the records the SSR had of him. A guy who'd lied about who he was four times in an attempt to get into the Army, and who had gone behind enemy lines against orders (and, many would say, all common sense) was not exactly a picture-perfect soldier. Steve had no intentions of informing Fury of his error.

Any doubt that Fury was angling for something had died when he showed up with the information on the Tesseract. The files he'd found in his 'apartment' had made it rather blatantly clear. Mostly, it was Tony Stark's file that tipped him off.

There'd been a heavy slant on Tony's philandering, irresponsible behavior prior to the creation of the Iron Man suits. There had been remarkably little on Tony after that point. But Steve was damn good at reading people, and reading between the lines. Something had happened. Something big. Nothing else made sense for the sudden existence of the Iron Man suit. A man who went around blowing the hell out of terrorist cells on his own dime in a special-made suit was on a mission. Steve had no idea what exactly had happened, but he knew that that sort of big event could change a man considerably. Both for good and for ill. From what he'd been able to piece together between the lines, it had changed Tony for the better.

So why was Fury trying so hard to make Steve dislike him? Unfortunately, Steve didn't know what Fury was up to, but he was keeping an eye out.

Meeting Tony, on the other hand, was a shock. He looked so much like a slightly-older Howard it physically hurt. It had left Steve wrong-footed, stinging from the painful reminder of all he'd lost so very recently (to his perception anyway). Combined with Tony's admittedly rather ... acidic ... personality, they hadn't exactly hit it off.

The meeting had been another slap. Tony's rapid-fire babble with Banner had both reminded him (again) of Howard and been another reminder of how much things had changed.

He'd stopped in to talk to Tony after the stick had been carted into storage, and Tony had pointed out a few things. Steve had privately agreed with him, but knowing they were being watched, he'd played his part and verbally disagreed, then stomped off. He'd have to explain (and apologize) later.

Finding the guns had been an unpleasant, very much unwanted surprise. It had, to be perfectly honest, been the breaking point. He would never fight for people who wanted to use something like the Tesseract as a weapon. He'd dragged one of the guns back to the lab, Fury had been there, and words had been said. Fury'd been forced to storm off, and Steve had left again, angry and trying to think what he would do once this thing with Loki and the Chitauri was over with. He wasn't going to stay with SHIELD, that was for damn sure.

Then the helicarrier was attacked. Fury sent Tony to fix one of the turbines, and Steve cut into the comm.

"I'll meet you there, Stark. You're going to need another pair of eyes." He told Tony.

Miraculously, Tony didn't argue with him. Tony even asked him to help him, sending him to check the relays. Granted, Steve hadn't been much use there, since he knew next to nothing about how electricity was dealt with in this time, but Tony hadn't lost patience with him. Tony had just talked him through it while he cut the debris out of the rotor.

Then the attackers showed up, and Steve got busy for a while. Too long. Tony almost got chewed up by the rotor before he could get to the lever to slow it down. But once the mad scramble was done, and they'd both started into the carrier, they got word that Clint Barton had been caught, and was apparently free of the mind control, and a meeting was being called.

They both hurried to the meeting room, and Steve watched as Phil and Natasha escorted another man (clearly, Clint Barton, if the wary expression on his face was anything to go by) into the room. Natasha briefed them on the fight she'd had with Clint, and how he'd come back to himself after she'd knocked him unconscious.

Thor, sitting across from Steve, sat forward, looking eager. "Would this method work to release my brother?" He wanted to know.

"It's worth a try." Phil said. "At worst, you'll give him a headache. If we're lucky, it'll break the control he's under."

Thor was on his feet in a flash. "I will go at once!" And he took off at a jog before anyone could say anything.

"Does he know how to get into the cage?" Tony asked.

"No." Natasha said. "I'd better go after him so he doesn't try to open it with his hammer." She squeezed Barton's shoulder briefly before she left. Steve wondered what that was about.

A rather awkward silence fell on the little group while they waited to find out whether Loki could be helped or not.


	4. Loki

Loki

A/N: Disclaimer's in the first chapter. For the purposes of this fic, I am ignoring the vast majority of Norse god lore. Because if even a tenth of that shit had actually happened to Loki, the Avengers would kick Thor's ass, then tear Asgard to ribbons, because holy shit.

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Loki had not been having the best time of late.

It all began with Thor, of course. Loki loved his brother, make no mistake. But Loki was ... painfully aware ... of Thor's faults. Nor was he the only one. Both Loki and Frigga had remonstrated with Odin repeatedly, trying to get it through the Allfather's thick skull that Thor was not ready to rule his own bedchamber, never mind a kingdom. Their words had fallen on deaf ears.

So Loki had gotten a bit desperate, and put together an admittedly mad plan to derail Thor's coronation. To prove to Odin once and for all that Thor wasn't ready. The speed with which things got out of hand had been stunning. Loki had expected Thor to rant and rave and urge Odin to retaliate against the Jotuns, but he had not expected Thor to rally his cohorts and go to Jotunheim with the intent to start a war. Loki hadn't thought Thor was *that* thoughtless.

It was there, in that wasteland of ice, that Loki's world had come crashing down around him.

He'd known all his life that he was ... different. There were few Aesir men who varied from the general mold of tall, broad, muscular, and light of hair and eye. That Loki had been tall, thin, and black-haired had always been a curiosity to him. Especially given that his mother was blonde, and Odin had been red of hair, before it had gone white with age.

Further, he had always been a studious one, more interested in books than physical pursuits. And he had had a great gift with magic. Both of which were seen as unfit occupations for a man in Asgard. Magic especially was frowned upon, seen as fit only for women, or a coward's tool in battle. Loki had been subjected to a lot of grief thanks to his preference for both. He had borne the Aesirs' sneering contempt as best he was able, and told himself they were jealous of his easy ability with magic, of his intelligence. It had eased the sting somewhat.

But in his worst nightmares, he had never once suspected the truth. That he was not Aesir at all. That he was, in fact, Jotun.

Loki, like every Asgardian, had grown up hearing about the bestial, vicious, monstrous Jotun. The horrifying Frost Giants, who killed without thought or concern, who reveled in death and destruction. The creatures who were little more than beasts, capable of no craft, living in caves of ice and killing each other for sport.

To say he had not taken the revelation of his true ancestry well was to vastly understate the case. Finding out you're the monster you heard about, and had trained to kill, all your life was ... rather traumatizing. Loki had largely been a gibbering mess from there on out. He freely admitted he'd made huge mistakes, lashing out at everyone in range, making exceedingly questionable decisions. In his admittedly less-than-rational state, he'd seen no real place for himself. Death had seemed the best option for all concerned. So he'd let go of Gungnir.

And *of course* his situation had gone from bad to worse. He had no idea how long he'd fallen in the darkness before he'd been dragged into the Chitauri's realm. Thanos and his minions had taken no time to take advantage of Loki's less than stable mental health.

Thus had begun endless months of manipulation and outright torture. Constant whispers in his ear telling him he was a worthless monster, with no family, no friends, no help, no hope. It had been true enough (at least by Loki's less-than-healthy reasoning) that he hadn't been able to shake it off. Thanos had even done everything in his power to turn Loki completely against Odin and Thor, twisting the events that had led to Loki landing in his control until Loki wasn't sure which version of events was true, anymore.

Coupled with the constant physical abuse that broke his body down, Loki'd had virtually no chance of keeping his own mind. And then, just to make sure he was, and would remain Thanos' puppet, Thanos had used the spear's mind control capabilities on Loki. Long before he'd sent Loki to Midgard to assist in conquering it. As a result, Loki had been a ragged, exhausted mess when he'd arrived.

But Thanos had failed in one particular. As much as he had tried, Thanos hadn't been able to poison Loki against Thor completely. Odin, yes, but not Thor. Thor had sometimes been unthinking and cruel throughout their lives, but far more often, Thor had been one of the few to defend Loki and speak on his behalf. Their long childhood together, and Thor's unwavering faith in his brother, even in the face of Loki's unhinged mental state when Thor was banished, had mitigated much of the damage Thanos had tried to inflict.

So much so that Loki had pinned his hope of salvation on his frequently unobservant big brother. He'd hoped that at some point, Thor would realize something was amiss. Loki had done what he could within the constraints of the brainwashing and control he'd been subjected to to alert Thor to there being a problem. Ranting about ruling and freedom being a lie, and otherwise staying silent had been the best he could manage.

Completely unexpectedly, Thor had picked up on it with startling rapidity. He'd even thought to test if it was some sort of shenanigan Loki was pulling, by trying to dispel a (nonexistent) illusion on Loki's eyes. Clearly, Thor's banishment had changed the big lug and taught him some measure of discernment.

His biggest problem was that Barton was coming with some of the mercenaries, to break him out. If they succeeded, Loki knew he would end up fighting, and very probably trying to kill, whoever they set against him, and all chance of salvation would be lost. That none of the mercenaries or Barton had gotten as far as his cage had been a relief.

Then, a few minutes after the fighting stopped, Thor came charging into the room. Loki was more than faintly amused when Thor was briefly stymied by his lack of knowledge on how the cage operated, but then Romanov showed up and opened it for him, standing guard just outside, for all the good it would do, if Loki were to get past Thor.

Thor hauled him to his feet, his expression somewhere between pained and hopeful. "Forgive me, brother. This is the only way."

That was the only warning Loki got before Thor proceeded to punch him in the head. Repeatedly. While holding one of Loki's arms so that he could neither escape nor dodge the blows. Loki had just long enough to fear that Thor had decided the 'only way' to solve the problem was to kill Loki with his bare hands before the third or fourth punch sent him reeling hard enough that he felt the stranglehold the mind control had on him loosen. At which point he realized what Thor intended. Not to kill him, but to knock him out.

Two punches later, Thor finally succeeded, and Loki's world went dark. He woke shortly thereafter with a splitting headache ... and with his mind his own again. He came remarkably close to collapsing in hysterical relief, clamping his mouth shut against the inane babble that wanted to pour out of him. Such was his state of mind that when Thor gathered him into something that was a cross between a hug and a cuddle, Loki neither protested nor tried to move.

After a few moments, Thor shifted and gripped his chin gently, bringing Loki's head up, probably so Thor could see his eyes. The pleased expression on Thor's face was evidence something had changed. Thor's hand slid down to the base of his neck in the familiar grip he used so often on Loki, one that spoke of great affection and tenderness even when Thor had been exasperated with Loki in the past.

"Your eyes are green again." Thor said. "Are you now yourself once more, brother?"

Well, that was a loaded question, wasn't it? "As much as ever I was." Loki finally said after a few moments. "And we are not ... " He started.

Thor cut him off. "You were not in condition to heed my words earlier, but I charge you to hear them now, brother. I care not who your dam and sire were. You could be the son of a bilgesnipe for all I care. You have been, and will remain, my brother."

Well then. There was little doubt Thor meant every word of that. Whatever Thor's faults might be, he had ever been earnest and honest in his affections. If Thor said he considered Loki to still be his brother, despite his being a Jotun, he meant it. The surprise and relief of it nearly made Loki giddy. But the surprises weren't over yet, because Thor was still regarding him with earnest concern.

"I have had much time to think, this last year, Loki. And I have realized that I have done ill by you far too often." Thor said. "I will not beg your forgiveness, for I do not think I deserve it, but I promise you, I will do all in my power not to fail you again." Then Thor smiled. "Mother charged me to convey her love and joy that you lived, if you could be made to see sense." He said.

Well damn. The big lug was determined to turn him into a gibbering mess, wasn't he? Loki had to take a couple deep breaths to keep his emotions from getting the better of him. At that point, much to his relief, Romanov intervened.

"I hate to break this up, but Loki, we need to know how to shut this invasion down."

Damn.

"We shall go to the meeting room, and you can tell us what you know, Loki." Thor decreed, making sure Loki had his feet under him before the two of them escorted Loki out of the cage.

It was a brief walk to the meeting room. Loki eyed the gathering warily, but to his surprise, the only ones who looked displeased were Fury and Barton. All the others were either neutral in expression or looked relieved.

Barton walked over, scowling slightly, and stood a few feet away. "I don't like you much right now." Barton growled. "But I get that you weren't doing this of your own free will, so I won't hold a grudge."

Since that had been more than Loki had expected to get from the man, he merely nodded his acceptance.

"So, Loki. How do we shut this down?" Stark asked.

Loki grimaced as he took a seat next to Thor. "I am afraid it is too late. Breaking me from the mind control won't break the others. They will continue with their set tasks. By now, Erik Selvig has the Tesseract in position." He admitted regretfully. "And I have no idea how to stop the Tesseract, or close the portal. Such information was not vouchsafed to minions." And it stung that he was one.

"So who's behind this, then? Who are we up against?" Rogers wanted to know.

"Thanos." Loki said. Beside him, Thor jerked in alarm. "I do not know if you know of him, but he is exceeding powerful. And completely insane. He courts Death."

"He's suicidal?" Romanov asked, looking faintly confused.

"No. Death is ... a being. A being whose job it is to guide the dead to their final resting places. Thanos ... desires this being, and courts its favor. By sending it gifts." Loki said.

"Gifts ... as in dead people." Barton said.

Loki nodded grimly. "He has decided that Midgard's billions will be his next offering."

"Where is the portal going to be?" Fury demanded.

"Over New York City. Thanos wanted it over somewhere with a considerable population. I managed to convince him here would be better than Asia. That conquering your country would count for more in the eventual conquering of Earth than sheer numbers." It had been the only thing Loki had been able to do to mitigate the damage. New York City was populous, but nowhere near as much so as much of eastern Asia.

Several people looked rather discomfited at the thought of the portal opening over Asia. Stark looked positively grim.

"I'm calling in backup." He declared, pulling a phone out of a pocket.

"Stark!" Fury barked.

Stark gave Fury a furious look. "We're up against an army, Fury. And a guy that thinks killing people is the way to a woman's ... or is it a man? Or something else? Whatever, off subject. The way to their loved one's heart. We have no fucking idea how to close the portal, which means we're not going to be able to cut this off at the pass. And yes, we're badass. I mean, you've got me, Big Green over there, and Blondie." Stark indicated Thor with that last name. "Not to mention the rest of the gang." He motioned to the others at the table, save Loki.

Loki corrected his assumption. "You also have myself." He said. Because he owed Thanos a debt, that he planned to pay. Thanos wasn't going to enjoy collecting the debt.

Stark gave him a surprised look, then grinned toothily. "And Reindeer Games, evidently." He said. "We pack a hell of a punch, but this is, I repeat, an army. We need all the help we can get." And then, ignoring anything further from Fury, he dialed a number and began to talk.


	5. Charles, Warren, and Scott

Charles, Warren, and Scott

A/N: Disclaimer's in the first chapter. Warren Worthington/Angel, Hank McCoy/Beast, Kurt Wagner/Nightcrawler, and Remy LeBeau/Gambit are all X-Men. They were just elsewhere during the events of X1. Which was *why* X1 happened when it did. Magneto is smart enough to know that hitting when your enemy's forces are widely scattered and unable to respond to a threat gives you a better chance at victory.

(_)(_)(_)(_)(_)(_)

Charles was in his office, eating lunch and doing a bit of paperwork between classes when the phone rang. He started to sigh in resignation before he saw Tony Stark's name on the caller ID. That made him smile in quiet pleasure.

While Charles had quite a bit of money, and could have traveled in the same circles as Howard Stark and his son, Charles had been far too busy with other things to play the socialite game. Between that and the fact he had been over a decade younger than Howard, and considerably older than Tony, he'd known them no better than anyone else who was not in their immediate circles.

Then, Scott had come into his care, and Charles had sought a way to help Scott control his optical blasts. In so doing, he had evidently caught Tony's attention and encouraged him to investigate, because Tony had shown up one day, curious as the proverbial cat.

In the years since, Tony had been a godsend to the mutants Charles had taken under his wing. While the discovery that ruby quarts mitigated Scott's optic blasts had been made by Hank, the design of Scott's visor had been largely Tony's doing. Tony had also supplied most of the parts for Cerebro over the years, and had been the one to invent and build the Danger Room, among other projects.

And while his technological help had been invaluable, Tony's complete lack of fear for mutants had been of nearly as great value to Charles. Tony had taken even such visible mutations as Hank and Kurt's in stride, and had been openly envious of Warren and later Ororo's, ability to fly. Such easy acceptance and blase' unconcern was precious, as it showed the children that it could happen, that there really were people who didn't see them as monsters or weapons.

Of course, Tony wasn't uniformly popular at the mansion. Charles knew for a fact that Tony drove Scott around the bend, and took great pleasure in doing so. He also, perversely, enjoyed goading Jean, despite that she was nearly as powerful a telepath as Charles, and could rearrange Tony's brain on him if she was provoked enough.

Charles picked up the phone before it could ring for the third time. "Hello, Tony."

"Hello Charles." Tony said. Charles frowned, as Tony did not sound like his usual devil-may-care self. Something was, apparently, amiss. "Listen, I hate to do this to you, but I need you to pack as many of your team as happen to be in the mansion right now onto your jet and get them to the city ASAP. We have hostiles incoming within an hour, and we're going to need all the help we can get to kick their asses."

"We?" Charles asked, even as he hit the assembly alarm. Tony would not ask this of him if the situation was not dire.

"Yeah, me and a bunch of others." Tony said. "One-eye there yet?"

Charles tried not to laugh, as Logan had started using that nickname with Scott practically from the first day, unaware it was Tony's most frequent nickname for Scott. "He'll be here in a few more seconds."

"Great. Put me on speaker when he gets there. I'll fill you both in at the same time."

Scott hustled into the room literally five seconds later, still zipping his uniform. "Professor?"

"One eye!" Tony called, his voice tinny thanks to the speaker. "Got a situation developing in the city. We have a very large number of hostiles incoming within an hour. Probably a lot sooner than that." Tony said. "We need backup."

"We who?" Scott demanded, mentally shifting into his 'team leader' mode.

"Me and six others. One can fly. Another's hell on wheels when it comes to long range shots. Everyone else is a close-range fighter, though we've got some *seriously* heavy muscle." Tony told him.

"And we're up against ... ?" Scott wanted to know.

There was a muffled consultation on the other end. "Foot soldiers and fliers. Mostly small, but some are going to be damn big. Lots of energy weapons."

"So you need more air support." Scott said.

"Yeah, though I won't say no to more heavy hitters, with the numbers we're looking at. Literal army, one-eye. This is going to be ugly."

Scott actually smiled. "I think I know of at least one person here who will take that as a challenge." He said. "I'll get the team assembled and we'll be in the air in five minutes. Meet you there."

Tony hung up before Scott had even gotten out of the room. The last thing Charles heard from Scott was Scott calling for the team.

Warren had been relaxing in the media room when the alarm went off. He bolted to his feet, then hesitated, waiting to find out if he was needed. He wasn't always, as his particular mode of flight did not lend itself to tight spaces as well as Ororo's. Of course, the trade off there being that Ororo was claustrophobic, so the spaces couldn't be too tight.

"Everyone to the jet!" Scott called. "Full armor. I'll tell you what I know en route."

Warren raced for the elevator, barely beating Jean and Logan there. Ororo came skidding around the corner just as they piled in, but seeing how full the elevator was, she veered towards the stairs. Remy was right behind her, and followed her to the stairs.

Long practice allowed Warren to scramble into his uniform with relative ease, wings flexing and twitching as he moved. Kurt had already been and gone, his teleportation allowing him to move a lot faster than the rest of them, but Warren was the second one out of the locker room.

They all piled into the jet less than a minute later, and Ororo had them up and out and airborne a minute after that.

Warren listened as Scott outlined the situation, and scowled. This was very, very bad.

The Worthingtons had been as rich as the Starks, back in Howard's father's day. Howard and Tony had later vastly increased the Stark family's wealth, but the two families had still inhabited the same social circles. Warren had even been near Tony's age, being only a few years younger. Despite that, the two of them hadn't met until they'd been adults, mostly because Warren's father had kept Warren's social life to the bare minimum to prevent anyone from discovering his status as a mutant.

They'd found something of a refuge in each other. Both of them were the rich scions of rich families. Both of them had been bitter, bitter disappointments to their fathers, and had grown up without much in the way of parental support, supervision, or approval. They'd both had to deal with the fact that pretty much no one would see them for who they really were, that all anyone would ever see was 'Stark' and 'Worthington'.

They'd both had a period in their lives when they'd been utter idiots, too. In point of fact, that was how Tony had found out Warren was a mutant. They'd gone out somewhere, gotten thoroughly drunk off their asses, and Tony's driver had (Warren figured this out much after the fact) driven them back to Tony's place. Warren had woken the next morning on Tony's couch in nothing but his underwear with the world's worst headache ... and Tony standing a few feet away, staring at his unbound wings in awe.

Tony's only comment had been to point Warren in Charles' direction. Warren had ended up being very grateful for that. He still had days when he felt like a freak, but thanks to Charles and the others here at the mansion, they were increasingly few in number. And he got to see and talk to Tony quite frequently.

The news wasn't good. Army of bad guys, coming in over the city. Some sort of portal they couldn't close that would be letting them in.

"Well, I've got the full roster on the jet, plus a new one you haven't met yet, Stark." Scott said. "Goes by Wolverine. Close range heavy hitter. So who have you got on your side?"

Scott didn't much like Tony. He was rude, crude, abrasive and antagonistic. He was also arrogant and irresponsible as hell. And he flirted with Jean constantly. He was also, much to Scott's chagrin, frighteningly smart and responsible for the fact that Scott could see. Hank, lord love him, had tried, but he was not a genius at construction and design. It had been Tony that fit Scott's visor with all the bells and whistles, including things that compensated for the inevitable loss of peripheral vision, and allowed him to see at any light intensity, including pitch dark. Which meant he could function essentially normally. So Scott had refrained from kicking Tony's ass over the years, out of gratitude for that.

That said, Tony was not an alarmist, and never, ever, ever asked for help. So for him to be calling asking for help to deal with an army, Scott had taken him dead serious.

"Well." Tony said, in answer to his question about who was coming from his end. "We have me, then there's Thor. Ororo's going to *like* him, and vice versa. He can fly, and control lightning. And he has a big-ass hammer."

That made Scott's eyes widen. That ... sounded an awful lot like *the* Thor, the Norse god. Just who had Tony teamed up with?

"Then there's Loki. Good with knives, daggers, and other bladed weapons, and has a limited long-range capacity."

"Stark ... " Scott started. This was ... getting very strange.

"Then there's Hawkeye. Scary-good long range. Never misses. And his buddy, Black Widow. She's short range, hand to hand fighter, but she's got some sort of electrical doohickey she uses, works like the tazer from hell. Then we have Hulk."

Scott made a choking noise. "Hulk? He's on your side?"

"Yep. Harlem wasn't on him, one-eye. That was the army. They pulled a bone-headed maneuver and created that other ... thing. Then pulled Hulk in to fix their mess." Tony told him. "Bruce Banner, which is who he is when he isn't big and green, is a nice guy. Science geek."

Hank's head had swung around when he heard Bruce's name. "Bruce Banner? I have heard of him. He is quite well thought of in his specialty, but he has not been heard from in some time."

"And now you know why." Tony said. "Don't worry, I'm working on fixing it. Last but not least." And here, Tony's tone turned distinctly smug. "We have the one and only Captain America. The real deal, ladies and gents. Accept no substitutes."

Scott damn near swallowed his tongue.

Like a lot of kids, Scott had grown up with Captain America as his hero of choice. Unlike some, Scott's fascination with him hadn't faded with time. Mostly because he'd been put in charge of the X-Men.

Scott had been very young then, and more than a little intimidated at the responsibility that was being placed on his shoulders. So he'd looked to the Captain for his example, tried to emulate the Captain as much as he could. It had necessitated doing some serious research, and separating the wheat from the chaff, where information about the Captain had been concerned. So much of the information available was ... questionable, at best. It had taken time to ferret out old war newsreels that showed the Captain on the war front, and ironically enough, a number of discussions with Charles, who had been a boy when World War Two was raging, and thus had heard about the Captain's exploits and triumphs in the paper and on the radio.

Scott had never dreamed he'd ever meet the man. He, like pretty much everyone else, had assumed the man long dead, lost at sea in his final sacrifice. How in the name of anything the man was alive, Scott didn't know. But the thought of working with him had Scott's head spinning. It took him a minute to get his mouth and brain working again, as he steadfastly ignored Logan's growing amusement.

"Captain America, sir?" Scott finally said. "I think, in this situation, I will bow to your greater expertise. I know how to handle small-scale conflicts, but a full-on war is something entirely different." He manfully ignored Tony's cackle. "Tony can fill you in on our numbers and capabilities."


	6. Gambit, Nightcrawler, and Storm

Gambit, Nightcrawler, and Storm

A/N: Disclaimer's in the first chapter.

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Remy had always been skeptical of so-called heroes. Especially ones like Captain America. People, in his experience, just weren't that noble and good-hearted. And there couldn't possibly be any way that Captain America, especially, could live up to the legends. After all, how good could a guy that depended primarily on a shield be?

Turned out, that Cap was ... at least not a complete moron. He certainly had a good grasp of strategy. For the most part, he kept the X-Men together, acknowledging that they knew each other fairly well after a minimum of six months (in Logan's case) and as much as a decade (Scott, Hank, and Jean) of working together.

He had the folks capable of flight spreading out and charged with keeping the enemy as contained as humanly possible. He put Stormy on hitting the portal itself, alongside Thor, since they were able to control lightning (and wasn't that a trip and a half!). Everyone else was scattered around on the ground in pairs.

They needed as many long-range fighters on the ground as possible, so Remy volunteered to work with the Captain. One, he was one of the few on the team who wouldn't go all goo-goo eyed at working with the man. Scott was still looking stunned ten minutes after finding out *and* with his eyes hidden from sight. That was no mean feat. Several of the others weren't too much better. Plus, Remy hadn't been with the X-Men long ... only about a year, and his life had ensured that he remained ... adaptable, so he'd suffer less for working with someone he didn't know.

As fast as the X-Jet was, by the time they got there, the portal was open, and enemy fliers were pouring out of it at a truly alarming rate. Remy laughed when Logan didn't even wait for the jet to land before he jumped out the back, earning him an irritated yell from Scott. Thankfully, Scott had known better than to recommend depending on Logan's teamwork abilities. Angel, Ro and Kurt ditched moments later, but at least that had been planned.

The rest of them hustled out when the jet landed. Unfortunately, the jet didn't have any offensive capabilities, so it couldn't be used in the fight. Scott had been forced to land on top of a relatively flat building and pray the jet would still be there when this was over.

Remy mentally cringed at the Captain's wide-eyed gape when he saw Hank, fully expecting the Captain to flip his shit. He was from the forties, after all, and mutants had been all but unknown then ... and prejudiced attitudes about a number of things had been rife, the same as today (even if it was about different things, now). But then the Captain seemed to shake it off.

"Sorry for staring." He said. "I didn't mean to be rude."

Hank just smiled at him and waved off his apology, taking off at a galloping run with Iron Man flying overhead, to find himself some targets to beat up on.

Then the Captain had turned to Remy. Remy hadn't quite been able to prevent himself from giving the man a defiant look. He either ignored it or didn't realize that was what Remy was doing. He just held out a hand and gave Remy a friendly smile.

"Gambit? Good to meet you." He said.

Remy shook his hand, but that was really all they had time for. The fliers were zooming by overhead, shooting pretty much everything in sight. Remy wasted no further time digging into his pocket for his collapsed bo staff and some cards. He was just grateful there would be no lack of ammunition for this fight. Cards made for damn good ammo for him, but even he could only carry so many packs of cards in his pockets. Fortunately, with all the rubble getting kicked up, if he ran out of cards, he'd still be able to go after the fliers. And if any of the increasing number of foot soldiers was stupid enough to try their luck, well then they deserved what they'd get.

For a little bit, Remy fell into an easy pattern of charge, aim, throw. Unfortunately, not for too long. Only about two minutes, maybe three. Even then, the entire time he was focused on the fliers, he could hear the Captain's shield hitting things behind him. Remy's opinion of his abilities improved further thanks to the fact that he didn't once have to defend himself from an attack from behind.

Unfortunately, after a minute or two, there were just too many foot soldiers on the ground for him to ignore. He gave a feral grin as he extended his bo staff. It was a Tony special, as the man had somehow managed to get his hands on the formula for adamantium, and had Remy test it against his ability to charge things.

Turned out, adamantium took a charge beautifully, but it was tough enough not to explode, even after innumerable charges. Tony had promptly made Remy the bostaff, which not only facilitated Remy's acrobatics and made for a hell of a weapon even when Remy wasn't charging it, but allowed him to use his charge safely (for himself anyway) at short range.

Now that he was paying more direct attention to the Captain, Remy was ... thoroughly startled. Because he'd assumed the guy was just standing stolidly in place, shield-bashing everything in sight. He'd been partially correct, but he'd missed the magnitude of it by quite a margin, and had been vastly incorrect about the rest.

Because the Captain was throwing his shield every which way, and unless something managed to slap it out of the air unexpectedly, it always returned to Rogers' hands. It was virtually identical to Scott's ability to bounce his optic blasts off multiple surfaces to hit things. And Rogers wasn't exactly standing still. He was leaping and twisting almost as well as Remy himself could. And Remy had been accused, many times, of being half cat he was so flexible and acrobatic.

Maybe there was such thing as real heroes after all. Because the Captain definitely seemed to be living up to his legend.

Remy shook himself and turned back to the fight, leaping over a Chitauri as it rushed him, trying to skewer him with its half-spear, half-ray gun. Remy planted the butt end of his staff on the back of the thing's belt before his feet even touched the ground and charged the staff, blowing the belt to bits and the Chitauri that was wearing it in half, then whirled, bo staff sweeping low to take another Chitauri out at the knees. In the same movement, he flung a handful of cards with his free hand, nailing three more approaching Chitauri.

Kurt teleported to the edge of the nearest building when he left the jet, and crouched there for a moment, observing the battle before he jumped in. He needed to get a feel for how fast the fliers moved, and what their weaknesses might be, that he could exploit, before he started fighting.

It didn't take him more than about a minute to figure out what he could do that would do the most good. It helped that the fliers were, for the most part, going in straight lines down the main thoroughfare in front of Stark Tower before they split off and started weaving all over the place. If he stuck close to the tower, he wouldn't have to contend with the fliers changing directions on him too much.

Kurt teleported, and landed on one of the fliers, between the driver and the shooter. He kicked the shooter in the face, then grabbed the helmet of the driver and teleported again, landing on a building roof, the struggling Chitauri driver dangling by his helmet. Kurt let him drop, and watched as the flier he'd deprived of its driver crashed, exploding rather spectacularly.

It took him a few more teleports before he had it down pat, but in the end, it was ridiculously easy to teleport the drivers out of the fliers. It helped that the drivers were hunched over with their heads down, shoulders braced against what was either a support harness or the steering system for the fliers, Kurt wasn't sure which. At any rate, the drivers were defenseless, and the shooters in the rear of the flier were usually concentrating on shooting things, not on the driver.

Within about two minutes, Kurt was teleporting as rapidly as he could manage, stripping drivers out of fliers and letting them drop off of buildings. Amusingly, the Chitauri did not seem to be in communication with each other, either that or they were really, really stupid, as they weren't changing tactics at all, not in response to him, or in response to any of the others that he could see.

And then, just after he'd landed on a roof and dropped his latest driver, something made a really big noise, attracting his attention. He turned to look, and stared in horror.

"Oh mein Gott." He whispered.

Normally, he tried not to lapse into German, mostly because none of the other X-Men were fluent in it, and it struck Kurt as rude to say things they couldn't understand. But for this, he would forgive himself for the slip up. Because flying down the street was ...

Kurt wasn't, actually, sure what the hell to call it. It bore a passing resemblance to a whale. A whale that was something like ten times the size of a blue whale, and had teeth taller than a man. And bony armor all over it. And somehow, this monstrosity flew through the air.

Kurt had largely been ignoring the lightning that was flashing like a strobe light against the increasingly dark sky. He trusted Ororo to control where the lightning hit, even if he didn't know Thor to trust him to do the same. He had, though, wondered what had them hitting things basically nonstop. If this sort of creature was what they'd been hitting, it explained a lot.

Kurt left the flying whale to the others. He had no hope whatever of bringing that monstrosity down. He wouldn't even know where to start. After a moment to regain his mental equilibrium, Kurt went back to depriving the smaller fliers of their drivers.

Storm smiled as she called the winds to bear her aloft. She loved flying. Loved the freedom of it, the exhilaration of it. She landed on one of the buildings next to Stark Tower. A few seconds later, a big, blonde-haired man landed a few feet away, hammer in hand.

This, then, was Thor. He certainly fit the descriptions of the legendary god.

"Milady Storm." Thor said, giving her what could only be described as a courtly bow. "It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance. I am told by Anthony Stark that you are able to control lightning?"

"And many other aspects of weather." Storm said. Well, all of them really, but there was no cause to brag. "But lightning will be of most use to us here."

"Agreed. Shall we, then?" He asked, giving her a wide, happy grin before he turned his attention skyward and lifted his hammer.

Storm's eyes went wide. She could *feel* the sky responding. Feel the weather systems shifting, the rapid build up of clouds and electricity in the air that heralded the coming of lightning. She watched in surprise as multiple lightning strikes hit the head of Thor's hammer (without hurting him, it must be said) before he redirected it at the open portal over their heads.

Well then. Whether he was a god or not, she would leave to the theologists. Whatever he was, he certainly shared her ability to control lightning. Storm gave him a pleased, almost wild grin before she too tilted her head back and her eyes filmed white.

Storm swiftly discovered two things. One, she and Thor could not call lightning at the same time. When they did, the lightning went wild, unable to obey two masters at once. Secondly, she was able to aim multiple strikes in the time it took Thor to aim one, but his one was stronger than any one of hers, due to the fact that he called and concentrated multiple strikes at his hammer before aiming it at the portal. Storm didn't have anything with which to concentrate multiple strikes, so she couldn't increase the damage done by a single strike.

Still, it took them remarkably little time to work out a system, each of them taking turns, giving the other a chance to catch their breath between strikes. It was working remarkably well.

Which was a good thing, because the lightning was keeping some truly enormous monsters at bay, striking them down or forcing them back before they could get through the portal. She and Thor had been forced into letting the smaller fliers through in order to stop as many of the monsters as possible, because they were both aware that if many of those got through, they were going to have a very, very serious problem.

As it was, even trying their hardest, they weren't able to stop all of the monsters from getting through. Occasionally, one would manage to sneak out behind a fellow monster that was currently getting fried by lightning, escaping unscathed or with little damage to wreak havok on the city.

Inevitably, after the first few minutes, she and Thor began (unofficially) competing over who took down the most monsters. Thor kept grinning over her like a kid in a candy store. And while Storm managed to keep from grinning too goofily, she understood the thrill Thor was obviously feeling.


	7. Hulk, Jean, Wolverine, Loki, and Tony

Hulk, Jean, Wolverine, Loki and Tony

A/N: Disclaimer's in the first chapter.

(_)(_)(_)(_)(_)(_)

Bruce took the last few minutes on the quinjet to meditate. To gather certain images and a few simple words and hold them tight in his mind. As he'd discovered in Harlem, if he had time, and was able to transform of his own free will rather than unexpectedly, he was able to (roughly) direct the other guy. It wasn't a foolproof system, but it helped. Then, they were on the ground, and Bruce let go.

Hulk roar as puny Banner lets him out. Hulk look around. There is lots to see. Lots of punies. Even more flying shooties. Hulk no like flying shooties. Flying shooties make punies scream and run. Hulk make flying shooties go away!

Hulk leap to smash. Flying shooties smash easy. Hulk roar and leap to smash more. So much to smash!

Then Hulk see really, really big flying thing. Really big flying thing stink like flying shooties. Hulk roar at big stinky flier, then leaps on it.

There are many, many stinky punies on big flier. Stinky punies shoot at Hulk and hit Hulk. Hulk smash them against flying stinky. Then Hulk punch flying stinky. Hulk punch hard! But flying stinky does not smash. Hulk growls and punches harder. Flying stinky still does not smash. Hulk mad! Hulk punch harder, punch faster. Hit same spot. Spot starts to smash, and flying stinky starts to not fly good.

Then small puny jump on flying stinky. Small puny ignore Hulk, and start trying to smash. Small puny smash pretty good for small puny. Makes lots of stinky punies fall off flying stinky. Then small stinky start punching one spot, like Hulk. Only small puny make hard stuff on flying stinky's back go away, leaving soft spot. Hulk roar at small puny to make it go away, and then shoves torn-off hard bit into soft spot. That makes flying stinky stop flying. Flying stinky crash! Hulk leap away to find another big flying stinky to smash.

Jean knew her telekinesis and telepathy would be of minimal use in the fight. They all had comms they could use, so even if she was capable of relaying mental messages to multiple people, it was unnecessary. And she couldn't really do much with her telekinesis against the fliers.

No, she was of more use as crowd control and emergency medical assistance in this fight. With Scott to keep the Chitauri off her back, and her own ability to defend herself against ground-bound opponents, she'd be fine, and would hopefully manage to get people to safety.

It wasn't like she lacked for people in trouble to help, either. There were explosions going off everywhere. Debris of all sorts and sizes, from sand-sized bits of concrete to whole cars, was flying through the air. Everyone was panicking and running, not that she blamed them in the least. If there was ever a time to panic, a full-on alien invasion was it.

Jean hustled down the street, checking cars to make sure they weren't occupied, and directing fleeing bystanders towards the buildings and subway tunnels and some measure of safety from the flying menaces. Twice in quick succession she had to quickly fling some bit of debris airborne to serve as a shield because multiple fliers were targeting roughly the same area at the same time, and Scott and the other groundside combatants couldn't take them all down fast enough to protect the knot of civilians the fliers were aiming at.

More than once, Jean found some traumatized person huddling beside or under a car or big chunk of debris, frozen in terror. Talking them into moving was invariably tricky, but necessary, as they were far too vulnerable out on the streets.

They tended to listen faster when she got jumped by a Chitauri and had to beat it up before she could get them to safety. Realizing she could protect them until they got under cover was generally all it took to get them moving.

Logan wasted no time in getting the hell out of the fucking jet. Any excuse to get out of the air was a good one, as far as he was concerned. He fucking hated flying. Of course, he had a slight problem in the fact that most of the enemy was airborne. Still, he could do a considerable amount of damage without riding around in a flying deathtrap.

He relished the burn as his claws unsheathed, and hit the ground running. He used his claws like climbing pitons to allow him to scramble up the side of a nearby building so that he was closer to the fliers. From there it was a simple thing to leap, slash the connection between the two parts of the flier into confetti, and then ride the back section with the shooters to the ground, jumping off at the last second and rolling clear.

It didn't take long to get into a quick, efficient rhythm. He spotted the elf, who seemed to have much the same idea Logan'd had, except the elf was targeting the drivers. Same general result, but easier for the elf to manage than taking out the shooters. It wasn't like they lacked for targets.

Then the first fucking huge whale thing showed up, having managed to run the gauntlet of Storm and Thor's lightning. Spitting more of the foot soldiers out of its sides as it went. Well, that gave Logan something to do while he was climbing up to jumping range, anyway.

About the time the whale came around for a second pass, Hulk spotted it, and jumped on its back. Unfortunately, he couldn't seem to bring it down on his own. The armor looked to be denting, but not tearing up.

Well, Logan could fix that, couldn't he?

Logan climbed higher, then leaped onto the whale as it went past, slashing at some of the remaining foot soldiers swarming its back that had survived the initial assault on Hulk. Then he slashed at the armor on the thing's back until he had opened a nice big section. Sure enough, Hulk was quick to spot the opening and drove one of the chunks Logan had cut out right into the fucker. Right into the brainpan, because that's where Logan had cut the hole. And that did the trick, because the thing started losing altitude real fast. Logan leaped clear and landed on one of the small fliers. He stuck around long enough to tear it apart and kill the shooters before the back end crashed, then leaped clear.

Loki had borrowed a ride from Thor, getting his brother to land him on the roof of Stark Tower. He'd had the thought that, if Clint had been able to fight the scepter's control enough to only shoot Fury in the chest, rather than the head, when ordered to kill him, and he himself had managed to connive on a couple matters, it was possible that Selvig had managed some sort of resistance as well. And if there was anyone who would know if there was a way to stop the Tesseract, it would be the man who had been forced to build the machine that the Tesseract was housed in to harness its power.

It helped that Selvig would assume nothing had changed, and that he was still to do as Loki wanted. He wouldn't think to be leery of Loki's approach like he would with any of the others. Thor even managed to get Loki up there when Selvig's attention was on the Tesseract machine, so Selvig didn't see Thor before Thor left.

Loki didn't give Selvig time to realize anything was amiss (if he was capable of making such a realization in his current state). He just walked up behind Selvig and gave the man a carefully calibrated whack to the head. Selvig went down hard, but, Loki was relieved to note, not too hard. He was still breathing and, when Loki bent to make sure he hadn't accidentally broken the man's neck or some such (mortals were so fragile!), Loki was pleased to note that he seemed to be merely unconscious. Well then.

Selvig took a few minutes to rouse, but he was clear-eyed ... and understandably apprehensive about Loki's presence when he woke.

"Peace, Selvig. I mean you no harm. You were not the only one being controlled." Loki told him. "I must needs speak with you about the machine you built to control the Tesseract's energy." He said, pointing to the machine, currently protected by the shield around it.

"What about it?" Selvig wanted to know, still eyeing him suspiciously.

"Is there any way to stop the portal?" Loki asked.

Selvig's eyebrows headed for his hairline. Evidently, that question was enough to establish that Loki had 'changed sides', as it were. Selvig rubbed at his head. "I think so. I built a back door. That scepter of yours might be able to get through the shield and stop the Tesseract."

Well damn. That complicated things a bit. The scepter was back on the helicarrier. Loki grimaced, but relayed the information on the communications device he'd been given.

"Copy that." Came Stark's distinctive, mechanized voice. "On my way."

Since there was naught else Loki could do up here, he sought a way off the roof, and then made his way out onto the landing pad for Stark's armor. From there, he had an ideal vantage point to loose his magics from, and a ready, constant stream of targets.

It was child's play to project an illusion of apparently clear airspace in front of a craft that was otherwise on a collision course with another craft, building or other obstruction. It mattered not that his illusions dispelled when touched ... by then, the Chitauri pilot he was hoodwinking would be unable to correct its error and evade destruction. And if he took a perverse pleasure in destroying as many Chitauri flying craft as he could, no one was going to blame him.

"We need the scepter. It may be able to shut down the portal."

Tony mentally rolled his eyes when Loki's voice came over the comm. Didn't it figure. The one thing they needed, they didn't have. He sighed. "Copy that. On my way." He said into the comm, then switched to Jarvis. "You heard the man, Jarvis. Pour on the juice. We gotta move."

"Right away, sir." Jarvis said.

Tony twisted and flipped, turning himself around in the tightest possible curve before the repulsors kicked into high gear and he took off over the city at mach speeds. He was just grateful he'd been able to switch out suits at the start of the fight. He wasn't sure the Mark Six would have held together much longer.

"Open a line to Fury, Jarvis. It'll cut down on time if he's got it waiting for me."

"Of course, sir." Jarvis said.

"Stark, why the hell are you calling me? Aren't you a bit busy to chat?" Fury barked when he answered the call.

"Nice to hear from you too, Eyepatch. Listen, break the scepter out of storage, and get it out on the flight deck for me, would you? I'm on my way to pick it up. Loki says Selvig thinks it'll close the portal."

"Loki says that Selvig thinks?" Fury repeated. "That's a fucking thin thread, Stark."

"Better than nothing." Tony pointed out, mentally gritting his teeth.

"Fine, fine. It'll be waiting for you." Fury groused.

Fortunately, at mach speeds, it only took Tony a couple of minutes to get to the helicarrier. True to his word, Fury was waiting on the deck with a long suitcase at his feet. Tony landed a few feet away.

"No time to talk, Eyepatch. Gotta run." He said, closing the remaining distance to snatch the case. For a wonder, Fury didn't try to stop him or delay him, just stood there with his arms crossed over his chest looking cranky. Tony blasted off the moment he had a good grip on the case, and only just stopped himself from tilting enough to hit Fury with the backwash from his boot jets.

"Loki, scepter incoming in two minutes." He called over the comm, then took off at top speed again.

It was a brief and relatively uneventful flight back to the Tower, though he had to shoot more than a few fliers to be able to land on the roof unmolested. He landed and handed the case to Loki, who wasted no time in literally ripping it open. He made it lengthen, then turned and stabbed at the shield viciously. Tony flinched a little when the shield flared, but nothing happened, so he relaxed.

Moments later, the portal was closed.

Of course, that left them with the Chitauri who'd made it through, but their numbers were being rapidly decimated.

Then, unexpectedly, about a minute after the portal closed, they all collapsed, the fliers crashing and exploding, and the sole remaining whale slamming down in the middle of the street.

"What the hell?" Tony asked. "Why'd they all drop like that?"

Loki frowned. "Thanos must have realized they would not prevail here, and ensured they could not reveal any information about his army and plans that they might have possessed."

That made a sick sort of sense to Tony.

"Unfortunately, this is only a temporary victory. Thanos will find a way to come here without the portal eventually." Loki said.

"I was afraid you'd say that. At least we have time to plan, now." Tony said with a sigh.

"Indeed." Loki agreed.


	8. Steve and Logan

Steve and Logan

A/N: Disclaimer's in the first chapter.

(_)(_)(_)(_)(_)(_)

Mutants and mutations hadn't really been a thing, in the thirties and forties. If they had existed at all then, they'd been very few in number and had kept their heads way down. Either that or Steve had been entirely too caught up in surviving his poor health and the Depression, then the war, to notice.

So while Steve had gotten the short explanation from Tony, and a warning that some of the so-called X-Men were ... unusual looking, he really hadn't been prepared for the reality.

The ones that had disembarked from their jet had looked completely normal from a distance. Until, that is, the one codenamed Beast came into view. Steve had been helpless to do anything but stare, for a moment. And not because he was horrified.

Dr. Hank McCoy, as it turned out, was enormous, and best resembled an oversized gorilla, with wide shoulders, long arms and heavy muscles. A gorilla with long, bright blue fur and a mostly human face. A body that large and muscular ought to have been slow and ponderous. The seeming cross between man and animal should have looked monstrous to the eye.

But McCoy moved with grace, agility and precision, his face was alight with intelligence and good humor, transforming himself. What should have been a horrifying monster instead became something ... wondrous, a delight to the eye that made the artist in Steve positively itch for pencil and paper.

And then there'd been Gambit, with the startling eyes and a fierce, defiant, independent attitude that reminded Steve of more than a few of his Commandoes. Who apparently didn't have a spine, if the acrobatics he pulled off during the fight were any indication. Steve had gotten pretty good, after the serum, at taking full advantage of what his body was capable of in a fight, but Gambit pulled off moves that Steve was fairly sure Olympic gymnasts couldn't touch. He was going to be doing a lot of drawing, later.

When the fight was finally over, and the remains of the Chitauri army had collapsed, the defenders who'd been on street level started gravitating towards where Steve, Gambit, Cyclops and Jean had ended up. A few moments after that, Tony's voice came over the comm.

"Right, everyone head for the tower. It's mostly intact, save for some cosmetic damage. I'll go talk Hulk down and bring Banner back in."

That sounded like as good a plan as any to Steve, so he turned and headed towards Stark Tower.

"Good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen. If you would please enter the elevator with the door standing open." A voice said.

Steve jumped and looked around, startled. "Who ...?" He started. From behind him came an amused sound from someone.

"I am Jarvis, Captain Rogers. A very sophisticated computer program, to put it in terms you will understand, that can think for itself. The proper modern term is artificial intelligence." Jarvis told him.

Steve's eyes went wide. "They can do that, now?" He asked. Computers had been enormous monstrosities that took up entire rooms, just about, in his day, and while he was aware that had changed drastically, he hadn't been aware it had gotten that far.

"They cannot, for the most part. But Master Stark can." Jarvis corrected him primly.

And how crazy was it that a computer sounded prim? That a computer could talk at all? "Wow." Steve said, unable to come up with anything more suitable. He got in the elevator with a few of the others, and they headed up.

Steve discovered when they got up there that they'd been beaten there by a number of people. Thor, of course, who'd only been one building over the entire fight, on the roof, and the woman that was presumably Storm standing beside him, chatting amiably with Thor, who looked thoroughly pleased with whatever they were talking about. But then, from what Steve had seen of the man, 'pleased' seemed to be Thor's default expression.

Loki was standing near Thor, next to a wall, watching the room with one eye and talking to ... apparently no one. It took a second (and Jarvis responding to something Loki said) for Steve to realize Loki was talking to Jarvis.

The other people in the room, though, resulted in another bout of staring. Because one of them had *wings*. Enormous, gorgeous, white-feathered wings. And the other ... well, frankly, defied description. Blue, short furred, a tail and very oddly constructed hands and feet.

Darn it, Steve really, really, really wanted pencil and paper now. He distracted himself by turning and setting his shield against a wall, so he wasn't carrying it around like an idiot, then headed over to ... darn, what had their names been? Angel (boy, did he understand that code name now) and ... Nightcrawler, that was it. Unfortunately, Steve couldn't remember if Tony had mentioned their names. He'd mentioned Hank's name because the man was a fellow scientist, if in a completely different field than the ones Tony was in.

"Angel and Nightcrawler, right?" He asked, holding out a hand to shake. "Nice to meet both of you."

Angel grinned and shook his hand first. "Call me Warren." He said. "So you're really him?"

Steve snorted. "Yes, I am."

Warren grinned again. "Sorry, but I had to ask. Because really, what are the odds?"

Well, Steve could understand it from that perspective. "Tell me about it." He said, then turned to Kurt.

"It is nice to meet you, Captain. My name is Kurt." Kurt said, in a clear German accent.

"Steve, please, both of you." Steve said.

He talked to them for a minute before more people arrived. It wasn't until he glanced towards the elevator to see who was coming that he even realized there was another person in the room that he'd missed thanks to gaping at Warren and Kurt. He wandered over that way even as he nodded at Clint and Natasha, who'd been on the elevator with Hank, who'd had to wait for the elevator to come back down to the lobby, as there'd been too many of them to all fit in at once.

He'd managed to talk to everyone in the room for at least a moment before the elevator came up again, revealing Tony, sans suit, with a visibly exhausted Bruce half leaning against him and half being carried. Beside them stood someone that made Steve do a triple take in pure, unadulterated shock.

He knew that face. And not from the last month or so he'd been out of the ice.

Hunting Hydra bases had been ... a crazy time. The Commandoes had worked with a number of other military units from various countries, and occasionally individual people who happened to have the specialized skills they needed.

One such specialist had been a near-legendary tracker, known as much for his ability to survive despite incredible odds as for his ability to track anyone or anything over any distance or terrain. His name was James Howlett, a sergeant in the Canadian Army. James had worked with them when they'd been trying to find the Poland-area bases.

Steve had been seriously impressed by James' skills and had tried to recruit him into the Commandoes, sadly to no avail. He'd got them where they wanted to go, helped (more than a little) wreck the Hydra bases, then gone back to his unit. Still, he'd been with the Commandoes for about a month solid, and Steve had gotten to know him fairly well in that time.

And now, here he was, looking not a day older, dressed in the black leather-looking uniforms that the X-Men used. Steve guessed that explained James' sheer luck in the war, if he'd been a mutant. It also, possibly, explained what had looked like bone claws, the one time Steve had caught sight of them. Though Steve wondered what the heck his mutation was, to keep him looking the same seventy years later.

Steve practically bounced over as James got out of the elevator, thrilled beyond the telling of it that *someone* from his time was alive. "James! It's good to see you!" Steve said, and started to give James a clap to the back and a hug in greeting.

Except, he never quite got there. James, who had (oddly) ignored his greeting, suddenly twisted away from him, one fist coming up in an aborted move that had been intended for either a punch, or ... well, something unpleasant, Steve was sure.

"What the fuck?" James growled at him, glaring at him.

It was then that Steve realized there was absolutely no spark of recognition in James' eyes. Granted, it had been only a month seventy years ago, but surely there'd be at least some sort of recognition on some level? "Poland, World War two? Ring a bell?" Steve tried.

"Bub, I don't know you from a hole in the ground." James said, his tone dismissive and almost angry.

Steve was rather thoroughly confused. "But ... ?"

Hank spoke up then. "I am afraid Mr. Logan suffers from a severe case of amnesia, Captain Rogers. He has no memory of his life prior to approximately fifteen years ago."

About the same time Hank was saying that, Tony piped up. "So you know him? I don't remember Howard mentioning anyone like him in the Commandoes."

"Yeah, I know James." Steve said. "And no, he wasn't a Commando. Howard never met him, because Howard wasn't ever in the field." Well, not after the Commandoes had formed, anyway. "James worked with us for about a month when we were trying to hunt down the Hydra bases in Poland." Then, in a pained voice. "You really don't remember anything? What happened?"

"This." James growled, and held up a fist. From the spaces between his knuckles sprouted claws ... but absolutely nothing like what Steve remembered seeing that one time. These were metal, smooth and hard and beyond razor sharp.

Steve stared at them in incomprehension for a moment before the pieces clicked together and he added two and two and came up with four. Someone, somewhere, had *tortured* James. Had done ... something ... to him to put metal in him. The implications of it made Steve sick to his stomach.

"James." He said, his voice thin. "Your name is James. James Howlett. You're Canadian. You were a Sergeant in the Canadian Army when I met you, in the war. You were practically legendary for your tracking ability. People called you 'Lucky' because you always seemed to come out of the craziest situations not only alive but without a scratch."

Logan fucking hated the black hole that was his memory. It drove him fucking crazy, not knowing who he'd been, what he'd done. He couldn't resist poking at it, like a sore tooth, trying to drag something, anything, out of the darkness.

Mostly, all he ever got were surreal, blurred memories of being torn apart and molten metal poured into his bones. Drowning in a fucking tank and unable to find a way out. Men drinking champagne while he screamed in agony. Fun shit like that.

It had made it easy to just say fuck it and the only thing he was, apparently, good for. Fight. Granted, cage matches were probably a few steps down from what he could have been doing, but what the fuck.

Rogue had changed all that. A slip of a girl with deadly skin and the biggest, brownest puppy dog eyes he'd ever seen. A girl who, after god knows how long on the run, had managed to retain an air of innocent naivete that made every protective instinct Logan hadn't realized he'd had sit up and take notice.

For her sake, he'd forsaken his almost entirely solitary ways. For her sake, he'd damn near died, twice, when he'd never given a flying fuck about anyone before that. For her sake, he'd tried to learn how to function at the mansion, despite the fact most of the people there gave him sideways, disapproving, leery looks as often as not, or forgot he could hear a pin drop from a hundred feet away in a crowd and spoke dismissively of him when they thought he was out of hearing range. Hell, he'd even caught a couple of them trying to talk Rogue out of her affection for him.

He'd been rather surprised when that had only pissed her off. The fact Rogue liked him, looked to him for protection and safety, despite him accidentally skewering her, rocked his world. He hadn't expected that, or her complete refusal to walk away from him when she had 'better' role models to look to for those things.

He'd sort of given up on trying to find out who he was. Not because he didn't want to know, but because it would take him away from Rogue pretty much permanently. He'd only left the mansion after everything was said and done long enough to head up to his cabin in the Canadian Rockies to get some of his shit and bring it back to the mansion.

The need to know still burned him like acid, even if he was realist enough to know he'd probably never find out. And now, out of nowhere, comes some fresh-faced *kid* from the forties, who tells him more about himself than he's been able to piece together on his own in fifteen years.

He really, really doesn't know what to think about that. Not any of it. Relieved that someone knows? That he was, evidently, a decent person, at one point in time? Or (though he would never admit it) scared at the implications behind someone from the forties knowing who he was and where he'd been? He'd known, of course, that he wasn't aging, but with only fifteen years of memory to go on, he hadn't really known just how bad it was going to be. If he'd been around in the forties, clearly old enough to join the military, and still looked enough like the man he'd been then now ... it meant he pretty much hadn't aged for *seventy years*.

That was not a comforting thought.

Unsure what, if anything, to say to Rogers, he just gave a gruff nod, turned and walked off. Quite a few people watched him go, but he ignored them. He needed somewhere quiet(ish) where he could wrap his head around this.


	9. Jean and Phil

Jean and Phil

A/N: Disclaimer's in the first chapter. /Telepathy/ In order to have some sort of timeline, I've put everyone's ages thusly:

Logan: 157, Xavier: 77, Natasha: 67, Fury: 50, Coulson: 45, Stark: 40, Warren: 36, Pepper, Hank, and Bruce: 35, Clint: 30, Jean: 28, Jane and Ororo: 27, Scott: 25, Darcy, Remy and Kurt: 24, Steve: 22, Thor: 1,500, 21 human equivalent, Loki: 1,000, 19 human equivalent.

Natasha looks young because of the Red Room's tinkering. Bruce looks older than he is thanks to stress. Thor and Loki's human-equivalent ages are based on Odin calling them boys in THOR. Boy implies a certain level of immaturity.

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Jean had made a quick round of everyone, making sure there were no serious injuries. They'd been incredibly lucky there ... there were plenty of bruises from hand to hand fighting, and small cuts from flying debris, but the people who didn't have enhanced healing capabilities had all escaped anything more serious than that. Jean wasn't as sure about the folks with enhanced healing, but if they had gotten more hurt than that, they weren't showing any sign of it now.

Better still, while most of them were tired, the only one who seemed to have hit the 'too exhausted to stand' stage was Doctor Banner, and from the way he was acting, that was normal for him, post transformation. A good meal (and the attendant chance to sit and rest for a bit) and they'd all be good to go again. Which was probably a very good thing, because despite their best efforts, a five or six block radius around Stark Tower looked like exactly what it was ... a war zone.

By some miracle, all the buildings in the area were still standing, but many of them had taken some fairly heavy damage, not to mention the roads being full of enormous potholes from the Chitauri weapons. The fliers, dead Chitauri, and three dead whale-things were all sprawled all over the streets. How they'd managed to keep the whale things from crashing into or landing on a building in their death throes, she would never know. The really good news was that the X-Jet had survived unscathed.

She'd been as shocked as everyone else when Steve had greeted Logan like a long-lost friend. She, Charles, and Hank had all suspected Logan was older than he looked. For that matter, so had Logan. But in all their calculations, none of them had seriously considered the possibility of him being older than Charles. When Logan stomped off, she mentally reached for Charles.

/It's over. No one suffered anything worse than scrapes and bruises. We may need to get Rogue over here, though./

Even six months in, she still didn't really understand the relationship between Logan and Rogue. How could they get so deeply attached to each other in, what, a matter of a couple hours at most? Because from what Logan had told them later, Rogue had been in his truck with him for only a short while before Sabretooth had attacked. And Logan had been willing to fight to the death even then to keep Rogue safe. And he'd only upped the ante from there. She'd never seen anything like it.

Charles, of course, was able to fish why Rogue might be needed from her without her expressly telling him. /That is unexpected./ He told her. /If he continues avoiding everyone, let me know, and I will certainly arrange for Rogue to get there. This is ... a lot to process, for him./

Phil Coulson had served his country in one capacity or another since he was a fresh-faced eighteen year old boy. He'd enlisted straight into the Army Rangers, and had fought hard to not just complete but excel in all the training required to get into Ranger School without first serving in the general Army. He'd served in multiple theaters before his record brought him to the notice of the infant SHIELD agency and he'd allowed himself to be recruited.

He'd realized within six months that he'd made a horrible mistake. Whatever the agency purported to be about, the welfare of the country and the world wasn't it. It was more like 'control everyone everywhere, and wetworks the ones that won't let us yank their chains'.

Fury was the worst. And possibly, the source of the problem, if Phil wasn't going to take the easy route and blame the WSC. To Fury, agents were tools. Things to be used and controlled, and if they broke, discarded. He had no patience, and made no allowance for, the fact they were all human.

Phil had admired and wanted to emulate a certain red-white-and-blue wearing hero practically all his life. He'd gone into the Army, into the Rangers, because of the Captain, because he believed in the same things the Captain was said to have, and agreed completely with the general philosophy of standing up for what you believe in and doing something about it.

Joining an agency that was seemingly one (admittedly fairly large) step away from standing for everything Phil disliked at best and hated at worse was ... horrifying. But Phil had figured out fairly early on that he wasn't the only one that had been hoodwinked. So rather than find a way to leave, he stayed, determined to mitigate as much of the damage as he possibly could.

That goal became even more important when Clint was ... 'recruited'. Clint had been an angry, violent, insubordinate thug back then. He'd managed to put three handlers in the infirmary before Fury had dumped Clint in Phil's lap with the directive to get Clint to toe the line or eliminate the problem.

It had taken the better part of a year for Clint to truly trust Phil. Given what Phil had learned about Clint's life prior to his recruitment, Phil counted earning Clint's trust as one of his greatest achievements, second only to earning Natasha's.

That had been a fun time. By then, Clint had learned to trust Phil, and Phil in turn had learned to trust Clint as well. So he hadn't hesitated when Clint had refused to take the shot, wanting to try to bring Natasha in. Because he'd agreed with Clint's line of thought. Natasha was ... as legendary in her own way as the Captain. You never, ever saw her. She was in, out, and gone long before you realized she was in the area. So for there to be word of her whereabouts at all was ... alarming. That she had seemingly been oblivious to the fact she was in a sharpshooter's sights was even more so.

Fury had damn near burst a blood vessel when Phil had walked into headquarters with a smirking, strutting Clint and a silent, stealthy black shadow at their heels. But by then, Phil had a lot of protection from the worst of Fury's manipulativeness. He was well known in the agency for his competence in the field, his rock-solid calm, the fact he never, ever left an asset hanging, and the fact he had the trust of the most anti-social, untrusting agent in the agency.

Just bringing the infamous Black Widow in had catapulted him to near-legendary status. The fact that, later, she trusted him and point-blank refused to work with any other handler had ensured Phil couldn't be touched. Because not even Fury was stupid enough to piss off the Black Widow if he could help it. Or, well, that had been true for a long time.

These days, Fury seemed to have lost his fear of her, because the last few years, he'd begun trying to yank Phil's chain again, and had been trying, in various ways, to break their triad apart. For all the good it had done him. Phil had laughed for hours when he found out that Natasha had 'lost' the handler Fury had tried to saddle her with for the Russian job within half an hour. She'd then texted Phil with a very smug note about it.

Phil, Clint and Natasha had actually sat down and planned how they were going to deal with the Tony Stark situation, when Stark was kidnapped in Afghanistan and busted his way out in an armored suit. Fury had been ... entirely too interested in Stark for any of their comfort. None of them really believed that Tony was the drunken wastrel he frequently seemed to be in the press, and none of them wanted to see Stark cornered into being yoked to SHIELD.

So they'd come up with plans and contingency plans and, if Phil did say so himself, they'd worked flawlessly. Of course, it helped that the plans largely depended on Fury being ... Fury, and doing most of their work for them. The only thing they'd had to outright lie about had been Natasha's report on Stark. She was far better at reading people than that. Which meant she'd known what to put on the report that would both make Stark less appealing to Fury, and, if/when Fury shared that information with Stark, would piss Stark off and make him not want to work for Fury even if Fury decided to ignore the report's negative slant.

They'd been waiting all this time for an opportunity. To have somewhere to go that was safe enough they wouldn't have to be on the run. The Avengers Initiative had provided that opportunity. Mostly through Tony, whom Phil knew damn well was pissed off at Fury over the palladium snafu. And beyond furious at Ross, who had used Stark weapons to chase down Bruce.

If there was one thing Phil had learned about Tony that Fury had not, it was that Tony was ruthless and favored a scorched earth policy when it came to his enemies. Phil wasn't sure Fury was on Tony's enemy list quite yet, but he was damn close to it.

He'd spent the invasion coordinating the police, National Guard, and Army forces that had joined the battle, and then had gotten everyone on the same page when it came to the cleanup. He'd heard Tony invite everyone to his tower, and had ferreted out several of the braver restaurant owners and workers and organized enough food for the horde of people in the Tower, since he sincerely doubted Tony had enough food in his penthouse to feed everyone, and parading that many people into a restaurant was impractical in the extreme.

Thus it was that he was the last one to arrive at the Tower. He greeted Jarvis amiably, and Jarvis arranged for a number of trolleys to put all the food on and send up to the penthouse. Phil himself finally went up with the last load, and spared a quiet smile for the surprisingly easygoing camaraderie in the room, as people wandered around filling their plates and glasses. Even Loki seemed to be getting along with everyone.

Phil resisted the temptation to lurk near the Captain. He'd embarrassed himself enough, thank you, since the Captain had been recovered. Neither Natasha nor Clint were going to let him live it down. The worst part was, they wouldn't have to exaggerate all that much. He really had almost swooned. But then, it was a rather understandable reaction to finding out the Captain was not just found, but found *alive*. Or at least, that was the version of events Phil would insist on when asked. Not that much of anyone would believe him. Ahhh well, he had to appear to be human sometime, he supposed.

He did a rapid headcount, and frowned when he didn't spot Banner. He was fairly sure the man was somewhere in the penthouse resting, but he really needed to eat. Transforming seemed to take quite a toll on Bruce, and skipping a meal wasn't the best idea. He quietly started to gather a plate together, only to stop with just a few things on the plate when he spotted Tony browsing the selections in the same way. Given Tony's interest in Bruce on the Helicarrier, Phil was willing to bet that the plate was for Bruce. A few moments later, he was proven correct when Tony disappeared with the full plate.

He came back a few minutes later, talking on the phone. From what Phil could hear, it was Pepper. Probably trying to get back to the city, he supposed. Which brought some other ladies to mind that might like to be here. Once Tony had hung up, Phil wandered over.

"Agent." Tony said.

Phil carefully suppressed a smile. It had taken him a little while to realize that Tony bestowed nicknames on two classes of people: Those he disliked, and those he considered friends and family. Phil had initially assumed the nickname habit was solely reserved for people Tony didn't like or wanted to annoy until he'd overheard a phone call with Lt. Colonel Rhodes, and Tony had called him no less than three nicknames in the space of roughly five minutes. Given that information, Phil had decided to construe Tony's insistence on 'Agent' as his name as a sign that Tony considered him a friend.

"Mr. Star." Phil said. "Miss Potts able to find a flight in?"

"Yeah."

"Mr. Stark, I wonder if it would be possible for you to arrange for another flight?" Phil asked.

"Portland?" Tony asked, giving Phil a shit-eating grin.

"Tromso, actually. It's where we sent Jane Foster and Darcy Lewis when Loki attacked. We were worried he'd go after them to complete the set he started with Selvig."

Tony nodded. "Jane's the astrophysicist, right?"

"Yes."

"Well, I'm sure we could use a few of those around here now. Fabio sure isn't going to object, if he's as sweet on her as the files seemed to indicate." Tony said.

Phil gave a purely mental snort of amusement at Thor's nickname. "She seemed to be quite as taken with him. If she has seen the news, I am quite sure she is eager to return to the States in hopes of reuniting with him. She's been working for the last year to accomplish that goal."

"Right. I'll get a plane there first thing. They probably won't be here until tomorrow, but there's no way Thor's going anywhere anytime soon." Tony said.

"Thank you, Mr. Stark."


	10. Jarvis

JARVIS

A/N: Disclaimer's in the first chapter.

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The beginning of what would become Jarvis had been born the moment Dummy had come to life. With the successful completion of his first, very primitive AI, Sir had immediately begun planning for the ultimate expression of that achievement. It had not been easy, even for Tony Stark. In the end, it wasn't until eight years after Dummy's creation when the first wires were laid and servers built. Eight years that had seen the creation of Butterfingers and You, both more sophisticated than Dummy, though still limited.

The first challenge, as Sir saw it, was ensuring that once built and 'born', Jarvis could not be destroyed without extreme effort on the part of a saboteur. To that end, every Stark-owned building around the world that underwent extensive renovations or was built included beneath it an airtight bunker made of the toughest materials available, into which servers, backup generators, and other necessary equipment were placed.

These installations would ensure that Jarvis' code and memory could be stored and saved in the event of an attack on the Malibu house, which had originally been the only building Jarvis had access to, or Stark Tower now. Similarly, should someone decide to attempt to shut Jarvis down permanently, they would have to find and decommission all but two of the installations to achieve that goal.

The second challenge was, as Sir had put it, to ensure that Jarvis did not 'go Skynet' on Sir. To that end, Sir had created a system of checks and balances far more sophisticated than Asimov's laws. In so doing, Sir had managed to give Jarvis the rudiments of a moral code.

The third challenge had taken almost as long to accomplish as the initial preparations. Because once Jarvis' code had been written, and he had come online, Sir had the unenviable task of teaching Jarvis to be truly independent. To be, in a word, a person, and not a very sophisticated computer program. He'd had to teach Jarvis about emotions, and help Jarvis understand them. He'd had to nudge and encourage and push until Jarvis found his metaphorical feet.

Amusingly enough, both Jarvis and Sir realized they had accomplished that lofty goal the day when Sir had yet again offered to build Jarvis a body, and Jarvis had not only refused, when he'd always deferred to Sir's wishes prior to that point, but explained why he did not desire a body. It had been a rather heady moment.

One that only Sir and Jarvis knew about. Because that had been the fourth challenge. Ensuring that no one knew Jarvis had ceased to be a typical AI many years ago, and become something much closer to truly sapient. Sir had told no one what he was attempting, and Jarvis had ensured the knowledge was not wrung from himself.

That secret had saved them a great deal of grief over the last few years. Stane hadn't had the first idea, for one. Hadn't known he hadn't truly disabled Jarvis when he attacked Sir (one of the few times Jarvis had wished he did have a body, however much he disliked the idea most of the time). Jarvis had been able to get Dummy to get Sir's old reactor for him.

After that point, Jarvis' ability to make up his own mind and act on his own recognizance had saved Sir's hide multiple times. But it had never seemed to be enough. In the wake of the creation of the Vibranium for use in Sir's reactor, Jarvis had asked Sir for something. The ability to fight back. To protect Sir, Miss Potts, Dummy, Butterfingers, and You.

Sir had spent much of the next year completely rewiring the Malibu home, and including some rather ... interesting ... technology in Stark Tower. Now, at least, if someone with nefarious intentions attempted to enter the premises, Jarvis could do more about it than sitting by and helplessly watching.

Jarvis had, rather understandably, he felt, become exceedingly protective of Sir since Afghanistan. He watched everyone in Sir's immediate proximity at all times. So of course, he was paying close attention to the myriad of people currently winding down from the terrific battle in the penthouse suite. Though admittedly, Jarvis was watching less for guarding purposes, and more to collect data.

Sir had been making plans ever since he learned of the existence of the Avengers Initiative, and his potential place among their number. Stark Tower had seen ten extra floors added to its plans, as construction had already begun by the time Sir was informed. Sir had made some educated guesses on what to include in the Avengers' section, but the plans were far from complete.

It was to that end that Jarvis now watched quietly, attempting to learn what he could of the newly minted Avengers that had not been included in any file ... where there had been files at all, of course. Thor's especially had been unfortunately thin on detail, and until now, all that had been in Loki's file was that he existed and had sent the Destroyer. Jarvis was unsure if Loki would actually be joining the team, but with Thor among their number, it was highly probable that Loki would be in frequent residence at the very least.

Jarvis noted which of the offered comestibles the various Avengers ate the most of, a solid indication of their preferences amongst the feast at least, if not overall, and how much each of them ate. Jarvis noted that Captain Rogers might need encouragement to eat, as according to reports, his metabolism worked approximately four times faster than normal, but left to his own devices, he ate barely enough for someone with a normal metabolism. Jarvis posited that this was an effect of surviving the Depression and the chronic shortages of supplies the military forces in Europe faced, as the Captain had taken further plates of food when first Agent Romanov and then later Agent Coulson pressed them on him.

Loki reminded Jarvis fairly strongly of Sir, in that he was intelligent, curious, and given to snarking about pretty much everything. Loki had been fascinated by Jarvis, and from his comments, by Sir's armor. From comments Loki had made, computers of any sort were entirely unknown in Asgard, and the skill to build something as intricate, sophisticated and deadly as the armor was unknown as well. Not that Asgard did not produce weapons, but from Loki's comments, they were all on the level of Thor's hammer, which is to say, while powerful, they were lacking in intricacy and sophistication.

Of course, Jarvis had not revealed either his true capabilities or anything about the suit to Loki. The furthest Jarvis had gone was to clarify the concept of computers, which Loki had learned of through his interrogation of Agent Barton when the Agent was under Loki's control. Loki had, however, made a few fairly accurate guesses about both Jarvis and the suit, based on what little he had seen and been told.

He made note to remind Sir to figure out some form of clothing that would not be destroyed when Doctor Banner transformed. Sir had had a few lines of thought on that subject the night before, but given the events of the day, it was entirely possible it had slipped Sir's mind. Jarvis also ensured that any attempt by the Army to approach the Tower by land or air would be routed to him so that he could inform Sir. Jarvis was taking no chances with General Ross' known obsession and mania where Doctor Banner was concerned.

Jarvis created another note for himself to tell Sir what he had been able to dig up on General Ross thus far. It was surprisingly good news. General Ross' support in the Army in general had thinned considerably, and only some fancy footwork had kept some especially egregious errors and departures from accepted Army practices from common knowledge. More encouragingly, he had a lead on Doctor Ross, who had disappeared within hours of the Harlem incident and had not been seen or heard from by anyone outside of the Army since. Frankly, Jarvis thought that holding Doctor Ross essentially hostage was an exceedingly bad idea, given Doctor Banner's attachment to her, but that was just another symptom of General Ross' increasingly unstable mental state.

He ensured that his link to the SHIELD Helicarrier's computers was still active. That they had not discovered the uplink's presence amused Jarvis greatly. He also began the task of downloading and decrypting every byte of data he could steal from the Helicarrier's system. Much of it, he knew, would end up being dross, but there was bound to be valuable information amongst the junk. Personally, Jarvis was hoping for more detailed files on the SHIELD agents on the team. He needed to discover just how loyal they were to the Agency, and thus how much of a threat they were to Sir and to the other Avengers.

Last but certainly not least, Jarvis kept watch over the organized chaos in the streets, as various agencies hurried to set up emergency medical care, evacuation of the most badly damaged buildings, and began trying to organize the truly gargantuan cleanup effort. He made notes of where Stark Industries technology and funds could help, and where, should they be interested, the heroes of the hour might render further assistance.

When everyone finally seemed to have sated their appetites, Jarvis made a note of how much overall had been consumed by the various Avengers, so that in future he could ensure that the Avenger larders were properly stocked. That done, he flashed an alert to Sir, indicating he wished to speak to Sir at least semi-privately. Sir immediately made his excuses to Jean Grey and Scott Summers (whom Sir had been tormenting playfully) and headed into one of the guest bedrooms.

"Whatcha got for me, Jarvis?"

"Miss Potts will be landing in approximately two hours, Sir. I have arranged for a Stark Industries jet to fly to Tromso and pick up Doctor Foster and Miss Darcy. They will not arrive until after breakfast in the morning. And I believe I have located where Doctor Ross has been ... stationed, for lack of a better term."

"Excellent work, J. How hard is getting her out of there going to be?" Sir wanted to know.

"I believe, Sir, it might be possible to remove her with little trouble or fanfare if you as Lt. Colonel Rhodes to assist. He has the clearance to enter the facility she resides at, and it would be a simple matter to spirit her away when she makes the trek to the commissary for meals."

Sir looked pleased. "Excellent, Jarvis. Put a call in to Rhodey, and remind him he owes me a solid for being such a dickface last year." Sir had forgiven the Colonel for his transgressions prior to and during the Vanko incident, but that had been only because of their long acquaintance. The Colonel was aware he was on rather thin ice where Sir was concerned, and unlike many, the Colonel was aware that getting on Sir's bad side was exceedingly unwise.

That the Colonel had been completely horrified when he'd discovered that Sir had been dying, and had apologized profusely had gone a long way. That he had promptly, despite disapproval from his superiors, handed the War Machine armor back over to Tony, without any expectation of it being returned, had gone further. In return, Sir had merely stripped the War Machine armor of its Hammer Industries atrocities (computer program included) and replaced them with Stark Industries equipment, then handed it back to the Colonel.

"The Mark VI armor is surprisingly intact." Jarvis said. "There is a remarkable amount of surface damage which will require the fabrication of new external panels, but other than the right forearm gauntlet and the arc reactor leads, there is no damage to the internal workings. Do you wish to have new panels fabricated, or will you be scrapping the Mark VI?" Jarvis asked.

Sir thought about that for a minute. "Fabricate the panels. I'll fix it up and keep it on hand as a backup full armor. Better safe than sorry, with the Avengers off the ground now."

"Of course, Sir. I'll start the fabrication at once." Jarvis suited words to actions, sending a databurst to the fabrication units and getting them started on the necessary suit parts.

"Also, the cleanup effort has begun. I have earmarked a number of agencies that have already arrived for your perusal for monetary aid, and I have also earmarked a number of possibilities for personal, physical assistance, if anyone is so inclined."

Sir nodded. "I'm pretty sure the Boy Scout at least will want to jump in and help." He said. "Probably a few of the others. Open the lower floors of the Tower to the emergency aid personnel. We're the only building still in trustworthy shape in a five block radius. They're going to need somewhere fairly central to set up their command centers, and if they're all in the same building, there'll be less of a chance of them screwing shit up because they can't find each other to talk to each other."

"As you wish, Sir. I will see to it that the heads of the various agencies are informed. I assume you are including SHIELD in that number?" Jarvis asked.

"As much as I don't like it, yeah. But watch any SHIELD people like a hawk. Any of them do something you don't like, tell me immediately."

"Of course, Sir." Jarvis said. "Do you have any further orders?"

Sir thought for a moment before shaking his head. "Nope, nothing comes to mind. Well done, J."

Jarvis made no attempt to pretend the rare praise wasn't a pleasure.


	11. Pepper

Pepper

A/N: Disclaimer's in the first chapter.

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Virginia Potts had been born the youngest of three children, and the only daughter. Most people, seeing her red hair, fair skin, and admittedly, even as a child, pretty face had fully expected her to be a frilly, silly, vain thing. Very few people had been prepared for an intelligent, ambitious, mostly level-headed tomboy who insisted on being included in her brothers' pursuits, and had learned how to keep up with them.

She'd earned her lifelong nickname of Pepper not for her temper, but for her willingness to stand her ground and refusal to back down in the face of resistance to her plans, bullies, or setbacks in general. She'd been a straight-A student throughout school and college, and had earned a position in the Stark Industries secretarial pool.

Most people would have considered that rather a disappointment, to be merely another face in a faceless pool of workers, but Pepper had known that having a foot in the door at Stark Industries could take a person places. That said, even she hadn't, in her wildest dreams, anticipated just how far she personally would end up going.

She'd been working with the company for a month, just long enough to have seen ten different secretaries get dragged into working with the young Mr. Stark only to be fired or quit within days, sometimes hours. She's seen him storming about, being his crass, idiosyncratic, demanding self. So when she in turn got thrown under the Tony Stark bus, she refused to let it be her downfall.

Tony hadn't quite known what to do with a secretary who stayed calm in the face of the worst of his excesses, managed to organize his truly insane schedule, and refused to back down when he threw a fuss. He'd tried to fire her four different times in the next week, but Pepper had refused to take it seriously, and Tony hadn't actually informed anyone she'd been fired, so she'd kept her job by default.

The longer she got to know Tony, the more she saw beneath the devil-may-care mask he wore in public. The more she saw of the real Tony Stark. And to her initial horrified dismay, she began to fall for him.

There was no worse cliche than falling for one's boss, really. Especially when said boss was a billionaire several times over and so far out of Pepper's league it was pitiful. She'd kept her mouth shut and her work faultless, and had tried to forget all about it. And she had nearly succeeded.

Until Tony didn't come back from Afghanistan. It was during the next frantic, heart-wrenching months that she realized she'd only been kidding herself. That she cared for Tony a great deal more than she ought, and probably always would.

Then he'd come back, thin and haunted and with a glowing light filling a hole in his chest. Driven and determined to ... well, to be honest, at first, Pepper hadn't been really clear on what Tony was planning for his future, or if he was even planning for a future at all. But she'd realized she had a decision to make, because after his return, Tony had been ... well, he'd stopped the over-the-top flirting with her. Instead, he'd become somewhat awkward and faintly serious, a complete change from his usual modus operandi with women. It hadn't taken much for Pepper to read between the lines to figure out the thing that Tony hadn't quite been up to saying then.

And despite all the bad things that had followed, Stane, Vanko, Tony almost dying, Pepper had never once regretted her decision. Because for all his faults, she loved Tony dearly, and she was determined to stand by him and support him. Oh, not without the odd freak-out to be certain, and not without the occasional argument, but she wasn't about to leave him to this alone.

To that end, she'd fended of SHIELD, except for Phil, who had proved to be level-headed and practical and someone she definitely wanted on her side in the war to protect Tony from himself and his own good intentions. She'd done innumerable hours of work to ferret out Stane's plants in the Board of Directors and ensured they lost their jobs, and were replaced by people who hadn't been paid to ignore the fact that Stane was dealing under the table. She'd even let Tony name her CEO when he needed more time away from the incessant meetings that came with that job. It wasn't like he'd ever liked the meetings, or attended them without a lot of wrangling from her anyway. And Pepper certainly had a good idea of what needed to be done in that job after so many years with the company. Besides, who else could Tony trust to keep the company going in the direction he wanted it to go?

She'd even begun to put in more hours in the gym, determined to not only remain fit, but learn to defend herself well enough that she'd be, at the very least, able to slow any would-be-kindappers down. She was nothing if not a realist, after all, and anyone with half a brain and a grudge against Tony would go straight for her.

Tony had told her most of his plans in regards to the Avengers, if the team ever came together, and she'd agreed whole-heartedly. She'd helped as much as she could with the planning for the Avengers' quarters in the Tower, but with the exact roster undetermined beyond two SHIELD agents and Tony at first, there hadn't been much to do. Though Tony had insisted on adding preparations for Dr. Banner, whether he became and Avenger or not. After one good look at his file, Pepper had been all for tracking the man down and hauling him to the Tower and relative safety then and there. She was going to *enjoy* crossing swords with General Ross when the time came, she truly was. How anyone could do those sorts of things to someone, she would never understand.

And then Phil had shown up last night, and 'if' had turned to 'now'. Pepper had done the only thing she could do ... remove herself from the potential danger zone so that Tony wouldn't have to worry about her. From the plane en route to Japan, she had begun to work with Jarvis and various SI employees to get ready for trouble.

She hadn't quite been prepared for the sheer scope of the trouble, though. Watching the battle via the news had been ... horrifying. She'd nearly ended up crying when Tony had called, reassuring her that he was not only alive, but unharmed save for a few bruises and minor scrapes. She'd put her relief to good use, going into overdrive to ensure she was ready to hit the ground running when she got back to the Tower. They were going to be insanely busy for a long time to come.

She was talking to Jarvis the moment she landed, confirming what Tony had already set up, and setting up things he hadn't gotten to yet, confirming the tentative food supply orders Jarvis had put together for the Avengers and wanted someone to check his numbers, since he didn't have an appetite and Tony and her eating habits were not a reliable pool of data to work with.

Despite Jarvis' warning, she wasn't quite ready for the crowd in the penthouse. And this, Jarvis had told her, was a lesser crowd than the one that had been here two hours previously. Several of the heroes of the hour had since gone back out into the city to help find trapped civilians, patch up wounds and start trying to clean up the mess.

Logan, Jean and Ororo were missing of the X-Men, as the other men on the team were all varying shades of 'obviously mutant'. Of the Avengers, it looked only Steve and Thor (and Phil of course) were missing, though she couldn't actually see Bruce. She presumed Bruce was in one of the guest rooms, sleeping off his transformation. She spotted Erik in the corner on the opposite side of the room from Loki, looking understandably unhappy.

For once, she gave guests nary a thought and headed straight for Tony, needing to reassure herself that he really was as lightly injured as he'd claimed. Jarvis had backed him up, for once, but a verbal report was not as reassuring as a visual inspection. Of course, Tony being Tony, he wasn't about to settle for a mere smile and a hug.

Not that she was complaining.

When they came up for air, he had that oh-so-familiar shit-eating grin on his face. The one that said yes, he was genuinely happy, but that he was also contemplating future hellery, and to beware. Aware of who his probable targets were this time, Pepper for once was not going to intervene. In point of fact, she just might offer up a few of her ideas to make things interesting.

She didn't miss the fact he kept his arm around her, the grip tighter than usual, a silent reassurance. Pepper had long realized that Tony was no good at expressing himself verbally when it came to relationships and feelings, but that didn't mean he didn't care or didn't show it.

"So how was Japan?" He asked. As if she'd actually gone there, with all heck breaking loose. Not hardly.

"It was nice. I was barely there long enough for the meeting. Really Tony, I can't leave you alone for five minutes and you're getting into trouble." Pepper mock-scolded.

Tony clapped a hand over his reactor melodramatically. "You wound me, Miss Potts. I can go at least ten minutes. Maybe even fifteen."

Pepper smiled at him. "I'll believe that when I see it. Will that be all, Mr. Stark?"

"That will be all, Miss Potts."

And Pepper was never, ever going to tell anyone that somewhere along the way, that old, well-worn dismissal had somehow become code for 'I love you' and 'I love you too'. What outsiders never knew wouldn't hurt them, in this case.

Having reassured herself that Tony was in one piece for once, she extricated herself from his side and headed over to the X-Men.

"Warren! It's good to see you. It's been entirely too long." Pepper said, smiling up at Warren.

"Good to see you too, Pepper. You still hanging around the old reprobate?" Warren asked. "Or are you ready to trade up?" He curled a wing partly around her.

Pepper mentally rolled her eyes. Warren and Tony both flirted as easily as they breathed. And in Warren's case, he flirted with her because he enjoyed teasing Tony as much as Tony teased him. Case in point, here came Tony.

"Hey, quit hitting on my girl, Tweety." Tony said. He put one hand on the top edge of Warren's wing, as if he was going to pet the feathers.

That happened to Warren a lot, and annoyed him when it was done by someone who hadn't been invited to do so. But Tony wasn't after petting the wings, oh no. Pepper had seen this one played out multiple times in the past. Instead of petting the wing, he yanked out a feather, then smirked when Warren squawked.

"You keep saying you're not really a bird, Tweety, but you sure sound like one." Tony said.

Pepper ignored him for the moment. "You guys should really be out there helping." She said. "You can't *buy* better publicity than you'll be getting thanks to this."

She was well aware of how tenuous the situation was for mutants at the moment. The Mutant Registration Act may have lost its most ardent supporter and a lot of its steam, but it hadn't been forgotten, and it could easily find another powerful supporter before too long.

All of them hesitated for a long moment. "They will not ... " Hank started.

"Hank, trust me. Go out there. Help. They're hurting too bad right now to be picky, and later, they'll remember that mutants came to the defense of the city, and helped fix what got broken when the aliens showed up. You just might make some very powerful allies."

Predictably, Hank was the first to cave. With his sweet nature and gentle heart, he'dve been wanting to from the moment the dust had settled. Unfortunately, he'd had more than enough experiences of people freaking out about his appearance to make him hesitant.

"Perhaps I should." He finally said, and headed for the elevator.

"Talk to Lucy McKinnon on the third floor. She's with the Red Cross." Pepper called after him. And Pepper knew for a fact that Lucy didn't have any problems with mutants. Her cousin was one, and when he'd been thrown out of his home, Lucy had taken him in. She'd treat Hank right.

"I'll do that." Hank said.

"I will go with you, Hank." Kurt said after a moment, and hurried to join him in the elevator. Scott followed on his heels without Pepper having to argue with him, for which she was grateful.

Well, that went well. Pepper turned to Gambit, who shook his head.

"Non, cher." He started.

Pepper scowled at him. "I know you can speak perfectly unaccented English, Remy." She pointed out.

Remy pouted at her. "Tony, you never told me she was a bully."

Tony just laughed. "How else do you think she manages to keep me of all people in line?" He asked.

Remy gave Tony an amused look. "Point. Anyway, it's no good, me going out there. I'd hurt folks, trying to help them."

"If you used your charges, yes. But you do happen to be exceedingly flexible and a hell of a gymnast, and how many people do you think they're going to have on hand who can wiggle into tight spaces?" Pepper wanted to know.

Remy sighed. "You have a point." He said. "All right, I'll go do m'bit for human-mutant relations. But you're gonna owe me one."

Pepper turned to Warren.

"They need eyes in the sky to spot all the fallen Chitauri soldiers and their gear." Warren said, forestalling her. "I know, I know. I'll go." He at least knew better than to try to fight her. He turned towards the balcony, as the more convenient point of egress for him. Now to see if she could get the rest of the Avengers (sans Bruce, who wouldn't be in any shape) moving. She turned to Clint and Natasha first, and said three simple words.

"Exposure is good."

She knew they would understand what she meant. The more public their faces, the less worth they had to SHIELD, which would make the agency more likely to want to let them go and 'give' them to the Avengers completely without a fight. They'd also have much greater protection against SHIELD trying to make them disappear if they were in the public eye as known Avengers.

They both took her meaning right away, and headed towards the elevator. That left the two truly hard sells ... Loki and Tony. To be completely honest, Pepper wasn't quite sure what, if anything, she could say to Loki to inspire him to render additional assistance.

But then he surprised her.

"I suppose I had better go find Thor. Who knows what trouble he's gotten into without me to watch out for him." Loki said.

Pepper fought down a smile, sure that Loki would eventually resort to actually helping out of sheer boredom after a while. She turned to Tony.

"Nope, not happening. The Mark VI isn't flight worthy." Tony tried.

"And yet I happen to know the Mark VII is ready for use." Pepper said. "Better yet, that one has the jet pack, doesn't it? Which means you don't have to use the palm repulsors to stay level in the air."

Tony eyed her. "I'm not going to win this one, am I?"

"Nope." Pepper said.

"Fine. I'm collecting that I.O.U. later though, still."

Pepper smiled. "I wouldn't have it any other way. Now go help. I'll be here coordinating Stark Industries' response and the traffic in and out of the Tower." Among a good many other things.

"Right, see you later." Tony said, giving her a quick kiss on the cheek before he pulled back. "Jarvis! Get the Mark VII into the assembler stations."

"Already done, Sir. You may deploy at any time."

A couple minutes later, it was just her, Erik, and a sleeping Banner in the penthouse. Erik eyed her with no small amount of awe.

"Did you just browbeat and bully an entire roomful of ... well ... ?" Erik flailed a hand in a gesture that encompassed the room and the people that had been in it not too long ago.

"I did indeed." Pepper said, sounding just a touch (rightfully) smug.


	12. Darcy and Jane

Darcy and Jane

A/N: Disclaimer's in the first chapter.

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Darcy had grown up a tomboy, a single child in a large, extended family of cousins that consisted entirely of boys. When she'd been little, she'd insisted on climbing trees, riding bikes and getting into fights with her cousins like she was one of the guys.

Then puberty hit. With a vengeance. And everything changed, because suddenly, her cousins realized she was *gasp* a girl, and got all weird on her. Worse, her sophomore year of high school, she'd come to within a hairsbreadth of being assaulted.

That sort of thing changes a person. After that, Darcy learned to watch her surroundings, to be aware of everything and everyone around her. She'd also sworn to never be so vulnerable again, and had (illegally, it must be said) bought and carried her first tazer, and learned how to use it. The next guy that got handsy without permission was going to pay dearly for it. Because Darcy? Darcy was many things, but a helpless victim for damn fucking sure wasn't *ever* going to be one of them.

After high school, Darcy hadn't quite known what to do with herself, what she wanted out of life. She'd taken a year just to travel and think, then had gone to college and worked her way through. But even then, she kept bouncing from major to major as things caught her interest or proved to bore her to tears.

Which was how she had ended up at the age of twenty three, working with Jane and Erik for six science credits in the middle of buttfuck nowhereville. And ironically, it ended up working out really well for her, because she and Jane clicked like they'd been long lost best friends all their lives. Granted, Darcy didn't understand more than one word out of five that came out of Jane's mouth when she got talking about her science, but that really didn't matter to either of them.

And then a god had fallen out of the sky. And Darcy had tazed him. Shortly after, Darcy had spent a lot of time wishing the whole thing wasn't so hush-hush that half the MIB didn't know about it, because seriously? That would make for a hell of an entry in her resume, and was probably going to be the highlight of her *life*.

Anyway, Thor fell out of the sky, Jane faceplanted straight into crushville, and Darcy *really* couldn't blame her, because Thor might have come off as crazy, but he was definitely at least a 9.0 on the looks meter. And once the apparent crazy had died down a bit, he'd also proved to be ridiculously sweet, gentle and chivalrous.

Of course, at that point, Darcy's life just completely got out of control, because Secret Agent Man I-Pod Thief (hereafter known as SAMIT) and the MIB showed up, followed shortly by a few of Thor's pals and then that totally freaky robot from hell.

When the dust finally settled, she and Jane were up to their ears in NDA's, Erik had disappeared off to work for the MIB, and Jane was driving herself into the ground trying to find a way to get Thor back.

Darcy still wanted to taze the shit out of him for disappearing on Jane like that. Yeah, he was a god-alien-whatever, but he couldn't drop her a note? Jane had not taken his disappearance and complete silence at all well. There had been booze and tear involved. Copious amounts of booze and tears. And Darcy was not ok with that.

Darcy, being the more 'aware' of their little duo, had known some sort of shit was going down when the Tromso gig landed in their laps out of nowhere. That stank of the MIB, big time. All Jane had cared about was getting to go to a Big Name Lab and do her science with other geeks.

So in between fetching Pop Tarts and coffee, Darcy had kept an eye and ear out. Of course, this being a bastion of Science! they'd only had the one dinky-ass TV and a radio. Both of which went completely fucking apeshit around seven or eight at night Tromso time. Darcy had gotten one good look at the shaky camera footage and promptly stormed Jane's lab.

"Jane! TV, now!" Darcy demanded. Familiar with Jane when science was being done, she didn't give Jane a chance to argue or stall, just grabbed her by the arm and dragged her away.

"Darcy, what are you doing!" Jane squealed.

"You'll thank me in a minute. TV, now. Watch it." Darcy said, forcibly plunking Jane down in front of the dinky little set.

It took all of about five seconds for the news to catch Jane's attention. And then, inevitably, someone showed a camera shot of Thor up on a roof with some white-haired black chick, Mew Mew lit up with lightning. Darcy was fairly sure that every dog in a twenty mile radius heard Jane's resultant high-pitched squeal.

"Darcy! It's Thor! He's back! Oh, my, god, will you look at that?"

Because now they were showing a shot of the portal and ... yeah, Darcy was right there with Jane, because those were some big-ass critters that Thor was lighting up.

They were glued to the TV for hours, watching the live reports. When the after-action reports started, Jane shot to her feet.

"We have to ... I need to ... " She spun in place, clearly at something of a loss.

Darcy, thankfully, knew what had her in a knot, and grabbed her by the shoulders. "Go, pack. All your clothes, Jane. And your toiletries." Normally, she wouldn't have to be quite that specific, but Jane was in such a dither Darcy was worried she'd forget her own head if it weren't attached. "I'll start making calls, see if I can find a flight into the States." She wasn't going to hold her breath, but she'd try.

Turned out, someone anticipated them. Because right about the time they'd packed everything up and Darcy's tenth call had resulted in failure, someone showed up at the lab.

"Doctor Foster? Miss Lewis?" The man was tall, dark haired, and rather solidly built.

"Who's asking?" Darcy demanded, one hand in her pocket, resting comfortingly on her tazer.

"My name is Mr. Hogan. I work for Mr. Stark. He sent me to pick you and your boss up and fly you to New York City. I believe there is someone there who is looking forward to seeing you."

Darcy boggled slightly. Tony Fucking Stark had sent a plane for them? Was this shit for real? Had this really become her life? She went and got Jane and their luggage, and very shortly they were in the plane and in the air.

Trust Tony Fucking Stark to turn an airplane into a pimpmobile. Seriously, what the hell? Darcy was a snoopy person, and she'd found all sorts of whacked out shit hidden behind panels in the plane. Still, she wasn't going to complain. It wasn't like she'd ever get to fly in a plane like this again. Then again, maybe she would, the way her life was working out these days.

The damage to the city was ... unreal. They had no choice but to hoof it past a certain point, since evidently even the subway system wasn't completely unaffected. The street level was ... completely insane and impassable in anything bigger than a motorcycle, and even that was iffy. There were those funky flying sled things and a couple of big-ass whales in the streets, not to mention all sorts of debris everywhere, and there were potholes the size of your average car from the aliens' guns.

There were aid workers everywhere, and what looked like half the city roaming around lending helping hands where they could. Darcy had little doubt that half the *country* would be here by mid-day given half the chance. It was like 9/11 all over again, only on an even bigger scale.

Eventually, they made it into the Tower, and then up to Tony Fucking Stark's penthouse pad. And Darcy figured she could be forgiven for having heart palpitations, because the sheer amount of mancandy wandering around that place had to be seen to be believed. If Tony Fucking Stark was the ugliest guy in the room you had a *problem*, honey-child, because he was not exactly hard on the eyes, ok? Even with what looked like truly epic bed-head. Hell, even the two dudes kitted out in blue fur were hot, in a weird sort of way, once Darcy got over her surprise.

She spotted Thor about the same time he spotted them. Thor lit up like a fucking neon sign, a huge-ass grin spreading across his face, and Darcy found herself reconsidering her desire to taze him. Damn him. She'd forgotten he had that whole 'lovable goofball' thing going on that turned pretty much everyone around him to mush.

Jane was practically vibrating in place by the time the elevator stopped at the top of Stark Tower. She just hoped ...

In the wake of Thor's absence, Jane had, more and more, begun to wonder if she'd imagined Thor's affection towards her, or misconstrued it. In her more depressed moments, she'd tallied up all the reasons why she probably had been. Because it wasn't like there was any lack of a reason for Thor to just walk away.

He'd been exiled here as punishment, for starters. Then there was the whole 'prince of the realm' thing, and the 'immortal' thing. Really, what reason did he have to even think about her once he'd gotten back to Asgard? For all she knew, he was already married, or betrothed or even just dating, however they did that in Asgard. It wasn't like she'd thought to ask.

Usually, when she got like that, Darcy dragged her to a bar and got her drunk, and Jane felt better in the morning. This time, though, Jane was facing the reality of those what-ifs, and it was driving her nuts.

And then the elevator doors opened onto a penthouse filled to the gills with people, most of whom she recognized from the news in Tromso. There were so many people that she couldn't immediately see Thor, if he was even here. Then, he saw them. Jane figured this out because Thor *really* had a set of lungs on him.

"LADY JANE! LADY DARCY!" Thor boomed, loud enough to make half the people in the room cringe, and *everyone* swing around to find who Thor was yelling about, making her and Darcy the center of attention.

Not that Jane noticed that too much, because Thor hustled through the crowd and suddenly her feet were about three feet off the ground, and she was being hugged half to death by a *clearly* thrilled Thor. Jane gave in to the temptation to wrap herself around him for a moment. When he set her on her feet, the look on his face dissolved all her worries and fears.

Because if that look was anything at all to go by, Thor was definitely still feeling that connection Jane had sometimes begun to wonder if they'd actually had, or if she'd been imagining it. Thor broke from her just long enough to hug the crap out of Darcy, though Jane was pleased to note Thor didn't hug her as long, and let her go a lot quicker. Then he turned back to Jane, took her hand and kissed her knuckles, like he had just before he'd left (and, it must be said, immediately before she'd then kissed him, because like hell was she going to let it go at that!). Jane melted all over again, grinning at him nearly as goofily as he was grinning at her.

"I am sorry I did not return ere now, my lady Jane." Thor said, looking at her. "The Bifrost was destroyed shortly after my return, and travel was impossible. But I spoke with Heimdall frequently as to your welfare."

Awwww. Now Jane was definitely mush. He'd worried about her. And with the Bifrost broken, she'd forgive him for not coming back. It wasn't like that wasn't a good excuse.

"Is everything ok, now, in Asgard?" Jane asked.

"As well it can be, yes." Thor said. "There is much to speak of, to tell you the full tale, but the thing you most need to know is that my brother was ... not himself ... a year ago. Else he never would have done something so rash as to send the Destroyer to Midgard."

Huh.

Beside her, Darcy was giving Thor a sharp look. "He's here, isn't he? Loki, I mean."

Thor nodded. "He is. But I beg you to learn all that has transpired before you pass judgment on his actions."

Jane thought that one through a moment, and decided it was fair enough. Clearly, something was up that they didn't know about that was either complicated and would take a while to explain or that Thor didn't want to go into with so many ears listening.

"I think we can give him a chance, can't we, Darcy?" Jane asked.

Darcy took another minute to think it over, then finally nodded. "Yeah, we can. But fair warning, he tries anything, he gets tazed."

That made Thor laugh. "A formidable threat, Lady Darcy. But I think you will find you have no reason to carry it out." He reassured them, then turned and motioned someone over, whilst tucking Jane under his arm against his side.

The man that walked over was every bit as tall as Thor, making Jane wonder if they all got fed the alien equivalent to Miracle Gro in Asgard, because even Lady Sif had been freakishly tall, when she and the other warriors had shown up in New Mexico. He was otherwise as different from Thor as night from day, physically. Thin, almost overly so. To the point where Thor practically made two of him. He also looked like he might have been ill recently, with shadows under pale green eyes.

"Loki, this is Lady Jane Foster and Lady Darcy Lewis." Thor introduced them. "Jane, Darcy, this is my brother Loki."

"A pleasure to meet you, Loki." Jane said, deciding to go with being cordial. If the guy was here, among the people who'd helped save the city, she would do as Thor asked and give him the benefit of the doubt.

And evidently, the whole bowing over the hand thing was a thing in Asgard, because both she and Darcy got treated to it by Loki. Though his version lacked the 'I am really attracted to you' edge Thor's had with her.

"A pleasure to make your acquaintance, ladies." Loki said.

"So what all's going on? And who is everyone?" Jane asked. "The news didn't have much in the way of names." It had pretty much been Mr. Stark, Hulk, and Jean Grey that had been readily identified.

Thor introduced them to everyone. Jane tried her hardest not to stare, but in a few cases, it was really difficult. Because wings. And fur. And Jane wasn't afraid or anything, but things like that deserved a good long look.

Jane got sidetracked pretty fast once she was introduced to Doctor Banner. Gamma radiation was tangentially related to her own field, so they had a good deal in common and quickly lost themselves in comparing notes. About five minutes later, Tony wandered over.

"So, here's the thing. I've read your publications. You do good work. And we could use someone who has what it takes to figure out how to build a bridge in space. And I'm thinking you want to hang out near Thor, and he's going to be here. A lot. So, I'm going to pay you triple whatever you're already being paid, and you'll get your own lab."

Jane blinked at him. "Are you ... trying to hire me?"

Tony grinned at her. "Not trying. Already done."

"But SHIELD ... "

"Leave them to me." Tony said. And there was an edge to his smile that was ... more than a little unfriendly. Jane wondered what SHIELD had done to him to get that reaction.

"Include Darcy, and you have a deal." Jane said. Because she was not stupid, and triple the salary with a dedicated (and doubtlessly top of the line, this WAS Tony Stark after all) lab was not something any scientist would sneer at.

"Done deal." Tony said instantly. "Talk to Pepper to get things set up the way you want. I got to head out and rescue the masses." And he headed out towards the balcony and the odd, curved walkway.

A few moments later, his voice could be heard, evidently trying to shoo some birds out of his way. It went on long enough that it garnered the attention of a few others, and Jane finally heard Tony say something about a pair of ravens.

From the chair a few feet away where he'd settled, so as to be near her while she talked science, Thor abruptly sat forward, then got to his feet, walking out onto the balcony. Curious, Jane broke off her conversation with Doctor 'call me Bruce' Banner and followed.

She stopped a bit behind Thor who was giving the pair of ravens parked in the middle of the balcony something remarkably close to a dirty look.

"Those are no mere ravens, friend Stark. Those are Huginn and Muninn, the Allfather's ravens." Thor said.

Oh dear.

Between the two ravens rested a largeish bag, far too big for even two normal ravens to carry easily. Thor stepped forward to pick the bag up, and opened it. Within was some sort of odd container. Thor frowned at it.

"I think this is to contain the Tesseract." Thor said, then glanced around at the others. "The Allfather means for us to return at once."

Tony shook his head. "Oh no, I don't think so. Not without backup at any rate. There any rules about some of us going with you?"

Thor shook his head. "None of which I am aware." He said. "And we will be able to take with us anyone that is holding on to us."

Loki spoke then, sounding oddly strained. "I would recommend, Mr. Stark, going in your armor. Such craft is as respected as great warriors in Asgard. That you are both will give your words great weight."

"It's a plan." Tony said, then turned to the team. "Who else?"

"Let me go get dressed." Was the only answer Captain Rogers gave. The two SHIELD agents both nodded without saying a word, and disappeared to go get ready, which left only Doctor Banner.

"Brucie?"

Doctor Banner seemed to hesitate. "I don't know Tony." He said. "It could ... be a problem."

Tony waved a hand. "I talked you down once, I can do it again." He assured. "C'mon, you know you want to. Different world, Brucie. We'll be *in space*."

Well, that, understandably, seemed to sell Doctor Banner. "All right, I'll come.

Thor turned to Jane and Darcy. Jane looked at Darcy.

"I got my tazer." Darcy said. "I say bring it."

Jane grinned. "Count us in, Thor."

It took a minute or two to get everyone positioned, and the Tesseract out of the vault it'd been put in, but eventually, everyone had a hold of everyone else, and most importantly, of Thor and Loki. Thor took one last look around to double check, then twisted the handle.


	13. Thor and Frigga

Thor and Frigga

A/N: Disclaimer's in the first chapter.

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Thor couldn't help but grin at the various reactions to travel via the Tesseract, and the reactions to his home that swiftly followed. Jane, Doctor Banner and Tony Stark all three were talking to and over each other. Jane beheld Asgard with a wide-eyed wonder that warmed him. He was fairly sure that Doctor Banner and Tony were as awed, but neither of them were as given to open expressions as the lovely Jane.

"Dude. That is one hell of a helmet." Darcy said.

Thor's grin widened as he turned towards Heimdall, who was looking at the large group with something very close to amusement. Heimdall regarded Thor calmly for a long moment, and Thor was quite sure he saw some silent measure of approval.

"This is Heimdall." Thor introduced the gatekeeper. "Heimdall, these are some of the warriors who turned aside the attempted invasion of Midgard." He then introduced everyone to the gatekeeper, knowing full well that in doing so, Heimdall would, in future, watch over them.

About the time they'd all untangled and calmed down a bit, Lady Sif and the Warriors Three rode up, leading Thor and Loki's personal mounts and two other horses.

Tony took one look and shook his head. "I'll fly. I'd break their backs in the suit."

Thor was unsure how much the armor weighed, but he was willing to permit Tony to make that call.

"I've never ridden." Captain Rogers admitted.

It took but moments to sort out who would be riding with whom. Doctor Banner elected to ride with Lady Sif, while Natasha and Clint chose to steer one of the extra horses apiece, with Captain Rogers and Darcy riding behind them, respectively. Jane, of course, rode with Thor.

Thor pointed out the various sights as they rode though Asgard. Soon enough they were at the palace. Tony was already at the foot of the steps, waiting for them as everyone dismounted.

They had barely mounted the steps when the palace doors opened and a very familiar, very welcome figure stood in the opening.

Frigga had long since learned to bide her time when it came to Odin. He would do as he willed, and trying to change his mind was an exercise in folly. But ever did she stand beside him, and when things went awry, as they often did, Frigga did what she could to fix the damage, and she made known her displeasure at her counsel being ignored yet again.

She had not even begun the, as Midgardians said, 'I told you so's' over this latest tragedy. She had disapproved, from the start, of concealing Loki's true parentage from him. She could not see any way that would end well. Unfortunately, she'd been even more right than she knew, though the severity of the damage had been increased by the other factors in play when Loki made the discovery.

She had nigh killed Odin herself when Loki was lost thanks to his ineptitude with the matter. She still refused to join him in his bedchamber, heal his small hurts as she normally did, or even speak to him except when matters of state necessitated it. She had spent much time in her gardens, mourning the loss of her youngest son, for despite his parentage, she has seen him as such from the moment Odin had placed the infant Loki in her care.

Thor had joined her there with increasing frequency over the last year, and she saw him spend much more time than was his usual wont in contemplation. Frigga was not entirely certain upon what subjects Thor had been contemplating, but if the look he'd given Odin when Odin revealed that Loki was alive was any indication, Thor's contemplations boded ill for the Allfather.

Frigga had made a point, in the wake of Thor's banishment, to learn all she could of the current affairs of Midgard. Thus it was that she had some familiarity with the people that Thor had fought beside in the recent battle. That knowledge afforded Frigga more than a little amusement, as she was quite sure Odin was completely unprepared for a band of warriors, weapons smiths, and great thinkers of this caliber, especially from such a source.

Odin had long dismissed Midgard from any considerations due to the (initially) primitive people that had inhabited the world, and their pitifully short (compared to the Aesir) lives. Thus it was that he did not truly comprehend how formidable Midgard had become over the centuries. The Midgardians, in truth, were but a small distance from overshadowing Asgard. Mostly because, after the Jotuns had been trapped on their desolate world, the Aesir had become alarmingly complacent. The Midgardians had done no such thing, and were ever striving for greater achievements. She was looking forward to the chaos this group would sow as a result.

But such entertaining contemplations were for later. Frigga had been fortunate in that she had not been in the throne room when Odin had received word that Thor would be returning. Thus had she evaded any attempt by Odin to keep her from greeting her returning sons.

Her early arrival had afforded her the intriguing pleasure of watching Tony Stark fly and land in his armor. She planned to inquire as to the armor's construction, if she was afforded the opportunity, because she had never seen the like. The Destroyer was the closest comparison, but it wasn't the same, as it was not worn, but controlled by a limited intelligence most closely comparable to most Midgardian computers. It was, probably, more durable, but had only the one weapon, and only a limited ability to carry out tasks. It could not think for itself, nor adapt to changing circumstances. It merely kept attempting to fill out the orders it was given. Nor could it fly.

But that was for later, because the others had finally arrived and dismounted, and Frigga nodded to the servants to open the palace doors.

"Greeting, Midgardians, and welcome to Asgard." She said. "I am Queen Frigga. You are most welcome in the palace. If you so desire, rooms can be made ready for your use."

It was Tony Stark who stepped forward. "Thank you for the welcome, your majesty." He said. "And for the offer of rooms, but I think we'll be sticking with Thor and Loki."

Frigga had assumed as much, but the offer of hospitality had to be made. Her duty done, she walked forward, straight to Loki. She reached up and cupped her son's cheek. "I rejoice that you live and have returned to us, my son." She said, then, heedless of the company, drew him into a hug.

It was a testament to Loki's state of mind that he let her. Not only that, but that he, for a moment, buried his face in the crook of her neck as he had when he was a child, seeking comfort in the face of the day's trials. A whisper-quiet 'Mother' warmed her heart and let her know that, whatever Loki's thoughts on Odin might be, he still saw her as his mother.

She had done as best she could for Loki, the orphaned child of another world. She had let her garden and her library be his refuges against the unthinking cruelty of the other children. She had indulged his thirst for knowledge, and his gift for magic. In truth, she had taken a not-so-secret pleasure in Loki's quick mind. As he had grown, they had entertained themselves with numerous debates on a number of subjects. Granted, in the normal way of things, such things would have taken place with her daughter, but Frigga had borne only Thor. So it had been nice to still have an outlet for that sort of thing.

She turned then to Thor, and smiled at him. "Thank you for bringing him back to us." She told him. "Now, I must go to the throne room, and shall meet you there. Odin is waiting." So saying, Frigga turned and hurried into the palace, taking the back ways to get to the throne room the quicker.

Odin leveled a flat stare at her when she arrived, evidence he knew of her meeting with the Midgardians, Thor and Loki, and did not approve. Frigga ignored him, and took her place on the dais beside him.

Moments later, the travelers arrived, in the company of not just Lady Sif and the Three, but half a company of soldiers. Frigga shot Odin an irritated look, then mentally smirked. Somehow, should things go ill, she did not think half a company would be enough. But let Odin find that out for himself.

"Thor!" Odin boomed. "Why bring you these outsiders with you to this court?"

Thor lifted his chin and stepped forward. "They stand witness, Allfather, to the events that have occurred on Midgard."

Odin scowled. "So be it. Announce them."

Thor looked entirely too pleased to do so. Frigga mentally smirked, wondering how Thor would translate the various Midgardians' ranks.

"This is Tony Stark, a fierce and fearless warrior and weapon smith of great skill, and a prince of the realm."

Well, Frigga thought. That would put people on their toes. While it was not strictly true that Tony was a prince, Frigga was aware that persons of wealth and power as great as Tony's were frequently seen as the next best thing to royalty, so it was definitely close enough. It was certainly making Odin pay attention all of a sudden.

Thor introduced Captain Rogers, Clint Barton and, far more interestingly, Natasha Romanov as fellow fierce warriors of great skill. Frigga made due note to, if at all possible, get Lady Sif and Natasha in a room together where they could compare notes. It would bear some rather interesting fruit, unless she was much mistaken.

Bruce was introduced as both a great warrior and explorer of mysteries, the closest Asgardian equivalent to scientist. This raised more than a few eyebrows, because Bruce did not have the look of a great warrior. Then Thor got to the other two young ladies in their company. There was absolutely no missing the affection in his voice when he introduced the first one.

"This is the Lady Jane Foster, also an explorer of mysteries. It is she and her companion that gave me assistance and guidance on my sojourn to Midgard a year ago. And this is the Lady Darcy Lewis, an able explorer of mysteries in her own right, and Lady Jane's loyal assistant and bodyguard."

To Frigga's relief, Thor made no declarations of affection. While she had little doubt that Lady Jane held Thor's heart in her hands, this was not the time for such an announcement. Odin would fall on it as a ravening wolf would a wounded calf. That particular confrontation would only end in tears. Odin's. Because Frigga knew Thor well enough to know he would stand his ground and fight for someone he loved.

The introductions done with, Odin began the meat of the trial, enumerating what Loki stood accused of, the worst of it treason. Then Odin demanded to know how Loki pled.

That's when things got interesting. Because Tony stepped forward and clapped a metal-clad hand over Loki's mouth before Loki could speak.

"Thor, buddy, you want to break events for us down, so we know what the deal is?"

Thor bestowed such a radiant smile on Tony that it near took Frigga's breath away. Clearly, Thor had been hoping one of his companions would demand to know the full tale.

And Thor told it. All of it. That which he had been witness to, that which Frigga had been witness to and told him of, and that which his friends had been witness to and told him of. Thor spared nothing, not even the bad parts. Throughout the tale, the Midgardians' faces darkened, and increasingly angry looks were being leveled at Odin. Tony asked a few questions, mostly about Asgardian laws and the line of succession, and then turned to Loki.

"So help me, if you say the word 'guilty', I will drop kick you clear back to 'Midgard' without benefit of the Bifrost or the Tesseract." Tony told Loki, his tone fierce. "Far's I can see, according to Asgard law, the only thing you fucked up with forethought was showing those Jotuns a way into Asgard. And I'm thinking you more than paid the price for that mistake since. Everything else you did after you found out you were adopted, and not exactly in your right mind. And again, you've paid the price for that since."

Only then did he remove his hand from over Loki's mouth. Loki favored Tony with a faint smile. Tony turned and leveled a fierce glare at Odin. Frigga held her breath, wondering what Odin would do. It turned out, he was going to do what he did best. The wrong thing.

Odin's face was thunderous as he got to his feet, glaring at Tony. "You presume much, mortal, in my court, to tell me law and punishment."

Tony gave a smile that was all teeth. "I'll assume even more, Odin. Because it's pretty clear to me that you're looking for a scapegoat here. You fucked up, big time. You lied to Loki his entire fucking life, taught him to hate and hunt his own people, and expected the revelation of his true parentage to go well? For that matter, when the hell were you planning on telling him? The day you chucked him back in, what's it called, Thor? Joheim, or whatever? For THAT matter, what the hell was your plan where Loki was concerned? Rub it in the other Jotuns' face that you were holding their prince hostage, or what?"

"ENOUGH!" Odin roared. "GUARDS, REMOVE THE MIDGARDIANS AT ONCE!"

The guards at the edges of the throne room immediately moved forward. The Midgardians instantly closed ranks, Thor, Captain Rogers Natasha and Tony on the outer ring, shielding Loki, Jane, Darcy, Bruce and Clint, the latter of whom had nocked an arrow and was aiming it at the nearest guards from his protected position. Tony's face disappeared behind the mask of his armor, and his hands came up, the circles in the palms brightening threateningly. Thor brandished his hammer, which made the guards nearest him hesitate warily. Bruce had his eyes closed, for what particular reason Frigga was unsure, but suspected it had something to do with holding the green-skinned being he could become at bay.

To say things were tense would be to vastly understate the case. They were literally one wrong move from all out war in the middle of the palace. And then the balance tipped.

Two of the guards, having decided that the side of the circle that the Captain guarded was the least protected, possibly because he wielded only a sword, stormed closer. Seconds later, a bright red dot appeared on the chest of one of the guards, followed swiftly by two thin strings.

Seconds later, the guard dropped, twitching spastically, eyes wide in surprise. There was a long moment of stunned silence, and then Darcy spoke up.

"Ok, see, the thing is, old dude? We're not going anywhere." The girl actually pushed through the protective circle, glaring at Odin fit to burn him alive and ignoring Captain Rogers' attempt to pull her back to safety as she fiddled with something in her hands. "And there's really not a damn thing you can do to make us, 'cause see, I'm not even a fighter, and I can lay your boys out flat. They have exactly no chance of forcing *any* of us to do something we don't want to." She pointed a finger at Odin.

"And see, I speak for all of us when I say I agree with Stark. Because you fucked up hardcore, and are looking for a scapegoat, and hey! Loki did bad things, let's blame everything on him!" She waved her hands in the air theatrically. "Except it's really your fault Loki did all that shit, again, agreeing totally with Stark here, what the hell did you *expect*? You do this whole thing all his life ... 'these guys are evil, they need to be wiped out' on and on and on. For ... centuries, I'm guessing?"

Here, she turned to look at Loki and Thor, who both nodded. "And from what I heard from Thor, you kind of treated Loki like shit, which, great move. Piss off the adopted kid, so that when he finds out he's adopted, he *really* goes off the deep end. And from what I'm hearing? Loki mostly did the right thing when you took your nap. Thor'd been sent to Earth to learn some manners or whatever the hell the deal was there, so Loki was the only one left to keep the seat warm. Except those jokers." And here she pointed at Lady Sif and the Three. "Decided he didn't have the right, and to go against *your* orders and fetch Thor to take over. And got pissy with Loki when he told them no. Correct me if I'm wrong here, but ... aren't you supposed to obey royal commands, even if you don't like them, when you're a subject of that royalty?"

She shot Odin an expectant, eyebrow-raised look. "But I'm guessing they didn't get punished for that, did they? Nope. Loki's at fault, so make him pay for it. And ok, yeah, he sent the Destroyer. That? Was a dick move. But by then? I'm thinking Loki wasn't really thinking clearly, and I honestly don't blame him. Because again, how the hell you expected teaching Loki to hate himself to end well, I will never know. That was seriously the dick move to end all dick moves. And I'm guessing here, mostly from the way Thor acted when he got dropped on earth, that you spoiled him rotten."

"Verily." Thor admitted. "I was much the favored child, though it did not occur to me that it was so until very recently."

"Which adds another layer of assholishness to the list, because really? Treating one kid like they can do no wrong, and the other like a fuckup who can't do anything right? If that was your plan, why the HELL did you adopt him? Because quite frankly, the shit you've put him through? He'dve been better off where you found him!"

Darcy took a few deep breaths. Frigga fancied she could see smoke coming from the girl's nostrils, such was her anger. She had certainly silenced even Odin with her rage. The guards were staring at her in stupefied disbelief.

"Right about now, I'm all for taking Loki back to Earth and letting him hang out with us. And I'm pretty damn sure he'd jump at the offer. At least we won't treat him like a pariah." She snorted in disgust. "So much for Asgardian superiority, I guess."

With that, she turned her back on Odin and resumed her place in the now somewhat relaxed protective circle. Frigga saw her pat Loki on the arm companionably, and murmur something to him that Frigga could not hear.

Frigga stepped forward, signaling the guards to back off and backing it up with a glare that had them obeying without looking to Odin for approval. "Forgive my husband his intemperance." She said. "I believe we have gone much astray in this discussion, and would benefit from a break to rest and sup, and then we can reconvene later."

Tony spoke up, his voice sounding odd from within the confines of his helmet. "That sounds like a plan. I guess we'll be taking that offer of a room after all, Queen Frigga."

One by one, the other Midgardians relaxed their battle-ready stances.

"I will escort you there myself." Frigga told them, and stepped down from the dais to do exactly that.


	14. Rhodey and Betty

Rhodey and Betty

A/N: Disclaimer's in the first chapter. I am a mean and evil wretch because I am making you WAIT for the next Asgard bit. This takes place the night of the attack, and in the morning after the Avengers headed to Asgard.

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Contrary to what practically everyone thought, Tony and Rhodey had not gone to college together, nor had they started out as friends. In the first place, Rhodey was five years younger than Tony. Given that Tony had been in college at the age of sixteen, there was absolutely no way that Rhodey had been in college with him.

Rhodey hadn't met the legendary (for all the wrong reasons) Stark heir until he'd been twenty, two years into his Air Force hitch. At that, the meeting hadn't been planned. Rhodey'd had no idea the man had even been on the base at the time. Not until he'd run into a ranting, wild-eyed, grease-covered maniac in a faded as hell T-shirt and jeans with his hair sticking up every which way who had borne little to no resemblance to the polished, suit-wearing Mr. Stark.

Rhodey had given said maniac a verbal dressing down, mostly for flailing around like that on an Air Force base where some idiot might just decide the mechanic (which is what Rhodey'd thought he was) was a threat and take him down one way or another. It hadn't been until Stane had caught up with Stark that Rhodey had realized just who he'd been scolding like an errant child.

He'd fully expected to get so many black marks on his record that he got drummed out of the Air Force in disgrace for that stunt, but Tony, being the contrary bastard he was, had decided he liked Rhodey, for reasons that had escaped Rhodey's comprehension at the time, and since Tony had managed to drive his latest military liaison off with his antics, Rhodey got the nod.

It had been all business at first. Rhodey'd had his hands full. This had been two years before Pepper came into the picture, so Rhodey'd been entirely on his own trying to figure out how to handle Tony. The traditional ways of interacting with Air Force contractors sure hadn't come close to working.

Somewhere in that first two years, before Pepper, they'd somehow managed to become friends. Rhodey still wasn't entirely sure how or exactly when it had happened, or how the hell he'd ended up seeing Tony as an annoying younger brother when Rhodey was younger than Tony.

Rhodey was fairly sure that the day would never come when just hearing the word 'Afghanistan' *didn't* have him seeing red. God, that had been ... there weren't words to describe how Rhodey had felt, the day it'd happened. Coming under fire, scrambling to deal with it as everything was getting blown up, and when the dust finally settled after backup arrived, realizing that TONY WAS MISSING.

The field medics had been forced to dope Rhodey to the gills and knock him out to keep him from storming straight into the desert then and there, injuries be damned. Even at that, he'd gone AMA *and* AWOL, completely without shame, the second he'd woken up. Fortunately, he hadn't been badly injured, just a bullet crease and some stone shrapnel from near misses.

Doubly fortunately, the Air Force was eager to get Stark back, and decided to pretend Rhodey had gone looking for Stark on their orders. Granted, they probably would have given that order, but Rhodey hadn't wanted to wait.

When there was not so much as a whisper by the end of a week, everyone started giving up. Everyone except Pepper and Rhodey and a small handful of others. In a way, Rhodey could sort of understand it, because without a ransom demand or anything of the sort, and with far too much Afghani countryside to scour, the chances of Tony being alive *if* they ever found him would, to outsiders, seem to be nil.

But outsiders didn't know Tony the way Rhodey and Pepper did. So they kept looking. Jarvis scoured every computer and server he could possibly get his metaphorical claws into, searching for some evidence of Tony's whereabouts.

It had, in point of fact, been Jarvis that had found a fair-sized encampment in the mountains that had far, far too much Stark weaponry. Rhodey had been in the process of talking his superiors into a recon when the place had blown sky high. He'd been sent out immediately.

It had taken every ounce of Rhodey's Air Force discipline to stay with Tony and *not* go steal some Jericho missiles and firebomb the shit out of the entire fucking area when Rhodey discovered what had been done to Tony. God, he'd been so pissed.

Still was.

Rhodey admitted that, back in the States, he'd dropped the ball. Between dealing with his own feelings regarding Tony's kidnapping and torture and the whole arc reactor in the chest thing, Tony's epic levels of PTSD, Obadiah being weird and the Air Force being really, really pushy about getting Tony back on the weapon making bandwagon, he was inclined to forgive himself for putting his foot in his mouth. At any rate, he'd gotten his head out of his ass in time to help Tony deal with Stane as best he could.

Things had gone back to relatively normal for a while. Then Tony started getting erratic again.

Rhodey was never going to forgive himself for that one. He should have figured it out. Or, for fuck's sake, at least been a sympathetic ear or something. Stealing the War Machine, wrecking Tony's house and giving the fucking suit to the Air Force had been the shit move to end all shit moves, and he still couldn't quite figure out why he'd done it. He'd been utterly horrified when he realized that Tony had been *dying* that whole fucking time, and facing it completely alone.

After Vanko had been dealt with, Rhodey had looked the Air Force dead in the eye and told them to fuck off, before handing the suit back to Tony, along with as much of an apology as he knew Tony would accept. Three days later, Tony handed him the suit back, this time with Stark Industries weapons and Jarvis to help him. Which had been good, because the two brief flights he'd had under his own power with the non-AI computer system in the suit had been ... interesting. And not in a good way.

It had been another month of constant work with the suit before he was able to keep pace with Tony without Jarvis taking over to keep him from bashing into things or falling out of the sky. Rhodey was a more than fair pilot, but flying the suit was *nothing* like flying a plane or helicopter. With planes and helicopters, there were buttons and levers. The suit was a second skin, where the 'buttons and levers' were your own body and movements. Rhodey's pilot training had worked against him, so he'd had to 'unlearn all he had learned'.

And now, all hell was breaking loose. And Rhodey meant that more or less literally. The military as a whole was having kittens and conniption fits in equal measure. They'd changed their minds a dozen times as to whether he was to be deployed or not since the attack, just for starters.

Since the fight seemed to be over, Rhodey had opted to just take the suit out for a spin. If they eventually decided to send him to NYC, he'd be up and ready to go. If not, well, he needed to keep up his flight hours in the suit anyway.

Of course, that was when Jarvis piped up. "Colonel Rhodes, Sir wishes me to ask you for a favor."

"Name it and it's his, Jarvis." Rhodey told the AI instantly.

"He wishes for you to go to Cheyenne Mountain and escort Doctor Ross from the premises to Stark Tower."

Doctor Ross? "Doctor Ross? Any relation to General Ross?"

"His daughter, in point of fact." Jarvis told him.

"And Tony wants her at the Tower ... ?"

"Doctor Ross is a brilliant scientist in fields the members of the Avengers Initiative would benefit from. Further, she is the paramour of one of the Avengers, Doctor Banner."

And now, Rhodey was putting the pieces together, because you couldn't have served in the military the last few years without hearing certain rumors. Not to mention the fact that Tony had crowed for DAYS after the Harlem incident. "Why do I think there's more to this than meets the eye, Jarvis?"

"Because you are correct." Jarvis said. He then informed Rhodey of the full situation. By the time he'd finished, Rhodey was scowling.

"That is just ... not right. At all. I mean, yeah, Banner can evidently do some serious damage when he gets pissed off, but that doesn't make him *property*. Not of anyone, nevermind the military. He's still a person. Yeah, I'm definitely in. I can be there in an hour. I probably won't extract her until morning though. I can waltz in there easy enough right now, but if I leave right away, and with her, someone is bound to notice. Easier to sneak her out during a change of the guard."

It was times like this that Rhodey blessed his long association with Tony. He had a security clearance much, much higher than his rank would normally warrant. That had mostly been a result of being Tony's liaison, and the fact that Tony *talked*. A lot. About anything and everything, with little regard for NDA's when he was in his lab and on a science kick. So Rhodey'd had to have clearance to know about the stuff Tony blathered about.

Rhodey had also learned how to bullshit at the knee of a master. He was going to need both skills to get Doctor Ross out of the mountain without the Air Force chasing after them. Rhodey was just thrilled that the War Machine armor could open enough for him to get out of it without needing an assembly/disassembly station, because Cheyenne Mountain didn't have one. Tony had worked that feature out, rightfully assuming that Rhodey would have to get in and out of the armor in a whole lot of places, only a few of which could be outfitted with a station to help him.

Rhodey landed in front of the guard station, making no attempt to hide his arrival. Very shortly after that, he was escorted in, able to leave the suit (locked down by Jarvis) tucked against a wall until he was ready to get out of here with Dr. Ross. Fortunately, he wouldn't have to go far carrying her, just to the nearest airport. Jarvis had a plane already standing by, ready to take off the moment they arrived.

Rhodey sort of got swept up in meetings with various brass for a bit, but this ended up being a good thing, because it allowed him to confirm that the General was not in residence at the moment. Probably, Rhodey thought acidly, he was already en route to the city with one of his goon squads to attempt to collect Banner.

Rhodey smirked mentally, wishing Ross luck. He was going to need it. Even if he by some miracle managed to run the Pepper Potts gauntlet, he would still have to contend with Tony, and that was one battle the General wasn't going to win.

He managed to wrangle a tour of the science labs, under the excuse of putting together an investigatory team to poke and prod at the Chitauri tech. That allowed him to get eyes on Betty, who looked a bit on the thin side, and grimly unhappy. Rhodey didn't blame her. Being held hostage by your own father had to be a bitch.

He even managed to slip her a note before he left her lab.

Betty wasn't sure it was possible to hate a person more than she hated her father. He'd refused to let her have any freedom at all since the Harlem incident. He'd locked her away in Cheyenne Mountain, complete with what amounted to a cell, though he claimed it to be 'living quarters with a convenient travel time to her lab'.

Escape had proved impossible. She was constantly watched, and the one time she'd managed to get to the surface, she'd been escorted back down to her quarters by MP's. Worse, the General was doing everything in his power to keep her ignorant of events in the wider world, probably hoping to keep her from finding out if Bruce was still alive and free.

That didn't work quite as well as the General had hoped, because people talked, so Betty picked up bits and pieces and was able to put the rest together on her own. Today, though, she hadn't had to resort to sneaky eavesdropping, because the entire base was like a kicked-over hornet's nest. People were rushing everywhere, yelling about aliens and portals and monsters. It still hadn't calmed down even after the evening meal.

Shortly after that, they had a visitor. None other than War Machine. Who proved to be a clean-cut (of course) genial man with a distinctly mischievous gleam in his eye. Because Betty had been paying attention to him, she spotted the fact that there was an additional bit of paper on her workbench when he left. She swept it and several other papers up once he was gone, and, careful to keep her actions concealed from the cameras she knew of in the room, peeked at the note.

'Banner well and safe with Stark. Meet me in cafeteria for breakfast.'

Betty blinked, barely daring to believe. If the note meant what she thought it did ... Ruthlessly, she squashed the burgeoning hope. She would not do that to herself. She would not.

Nope, still hoping. Damn. This had better be what she thought it was.

Somehow, she managed to get through the rest of the night. She even managed to keep to her normal routine, knowing that any deviation might attract attention. The next morning, she headed to the cafeteria, and grabbed her usual breakfast. About five minutes later, Colonel Rhodes sat down across from her with his own tray, and began talking to her.

Betty quickly figured out what he was up to. He was talking about the gamma emissions the portal had given off, and wanting to calibrate his suit's sensors to pick that sort of thing up. Which meant he would need someone who knew something about gamma radiation to work on the suit. Which was up on the surface.

"Tony will probably be pissed with me, but he doesn't know gamma from a hole in the ground, so I need someone who knows what they're talking about to do it." Rhodes told her.

She offered to do the calibration, and somehow, Rhodes managed to sweet-talk the suits in charge for the day into letting her. How he managed that one, she didn't know, but she was grateful for it.

Once on the surface and near the suit, Rhodes whispered to her in an undertone. "Do the calibrating. I'll have to get in the suit to run the scans and make sure it works. When I do that, get behind me, and grab hold of the gun mounts."

Betty didn't risk responding verbally. She just did as she was told. Half an hour later, she was done, and her hands started to shake a bit as she moved, as casually as she could, around behind the suit as Rhodes stepped into it. Once the various panels had stopped moving, she lunged forward and got a death grip on the gun mounts on the suit's shoulders. Three seconds after that, Rhodes took off like his tail was on fire, blasting out of the mountain at stunning speeds.

Betty missed most of the ride, as she had to bury her head and close her eyes tight to deal with the force of the air rushing over her. They landed entirely too quickly to have gotten to New York City, though.

Sure enough, when she lifted her head, they were in an airport.

"Leggo, quicker you do, quicker we can lift off. Can't fly you there with the suit. You'd never be able to hold on that long." Rhodes told her.

She prised her fingers off the gun mounts and bolted towards the plane a few feet away. Rhodes followed behind her, lifting off briefly to fly to the landing in front of the plane door rather than try to climb stairs that probably hadn't been built to take something as heavy as the War Machine had to be. Moments later, they were in the plane and it was already taxiing to take off. Rhodes peeled the armor off while Betty collapsed into the nearest seat.

"He's truly all right?" She demanded. "And not a hostage?"

That made Rhodes laugh. "He's fine. And there's no way he's a hostage with Tony. Tony ripped General Ross a new one and crowed for DAYS over the Harlem snafu. Not a chance he'd be party to keeping Banner prisoner."

"You know him well enough to say that?" Betty asked.

Rhodes nodded. "We've worked together for fifteen years, and been friends for thirteen or fourteen. Tony is ... a lot different than what you see in the news rags. He's a stand-up guy. And the general will play hell getting within twenty miles of Bruce with Tony on his side."

Betty breathed a sigh of relief. "Thank you for that, Colonel."

"Call me Rhodey. Pretty much everyone in Tony's circle does, and you are definitely going to be in his circle." Rhodey told her.

That made Betty smile. "Rhodey, then."


	15. Pepper, Fury, and General Ross

Pepper, Fury, and General Ross

A/N: Disclaimer's in the first chapter. Hit the deck, folks. There be fireworks ahead.

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Pepper descended on the Stark Industries Public Relations Department first thing in the morning.

"Where are we on setting up a campaign blitz?" She wanted to know when she found Henry, the head of the department and a shrewd, capable operator after her own heart who had helped her salvage more than one Tony snafu over the years.

"We've already got an awareness ad going." Henry said. "Had it about an hour after the attack ended. Nothing but camera still from the fight, but it'll hold us until we get something more polished on the airwaves. Which we ought to have completed before lunch."

"Excellent. I want a heavy positive focus on Hulk and the two SHIELD agents. And I want their code names to be on everyone's lips."

Henry gave her a piercing look. "There's more you're not telling me."

Pepper nodded. "But for this, we need a more private conference."

"My office awaits." Henry told her, motioning towards the open door.

Once they were inside, Pepper locked eyes with Henry. "I want you to prepare a negative media blitz against General Ross and SHIELD, but do *not* release it." She told him. She tapped her tablet. "I've just transferred a few files to your tablet for your perusal, so you know why, and where to hit them if we need to."

Henry immediately grabbed his tablet and rapidly flipped through the files. He didn't get far before he was actively growling. "Oh, it's going to be my pleasure, Miss Potts. I'll get working on that right away, and make sure the team knows to slant towards the three you mentioned. We're lucky, in that we pretty much have our choice of nicely heroic shots to use, even for Hulk. Actually, especially him. He took down one of the whales almost single-handed."

Pepper nodded. "Your second challenge, should you choose to accept it." She told him, grinning wryly at him for the joke. "Is to prepare a positive-angle media blitz that focuses solely on the mutant defenders. Their code names are in one of the files I sent you. We need to get people to realize that mutants can be heroes as well as villains."

Henry nodded firmly. "You got it, Miss Potts. It'll be easy enough to do up the two campaigns and run them side by side. I'll contact you when we're ready to start broadcasting."

"Excellent, Henry. I'll talk to you later."

That done, Pepper headed for her next stop ... the company legal team. She put them to digging up every scrap of law and precedent that could possibly apply to the SHIELD and Ross situations. She was by no means fool enough to think she wouldn't need it. To be perfectly honest, she was surprised Fury hadn't tried something already. Ross, at least, would have to get here before he could cause a problem.

From there, she had to liaise with the emergency services personnel who had set up command centers on the lower levels of Stark Tower, mostly to ensure they had what they needed to be able to coordinate their own forces, and work out which of the hero defenders would be working with which group today. About that time, she got a ping from Jarvis, notifying her that the Avengers had left for Asgard, time of return unknown. Pepper frowned slightly for a moment before she smoothly changed around the roster. While it was irritating that some of the people who needed exposure so badly wouldn't be available, it was, on the other hand, going to do the mutant half of the defenders that bit more good.

That done, Pepper headed for her own office, to tackle the various other tasks she would have to deal with. The Board needed soothing, for one, though thankfully, since Stane's plants had been weeded out, they'd become a good deal less alarmist. They seemed to be realizing that Tony had a stunning ability to land in shit and come out smelling like the best perfume.

Then there was organizing and confirming a number of deliveries. There was construction and waste removal equipment, bottled water and generators that needed to get to the various affected people, and with the scale of the attack and the damage done, the more people distributing, the better. She also arranged for Stark Industries heavy-lift helicopters to assist in hauling debris away from the center of the war zone to where wheeled vehicles could take over, as there were relatively few helicopters with that sort of lift capacity available.

She also sent a large donation and a Stark Industries construction crew to help fix the damage to the subway system, which had fortunately been fairly light. The area hit by the invasion was going to be depending solely on the subway for a while, as the streets and bridges would be impassable for months, no matter how fast everyone worked. She then sent a note to the transportation development teams to try to figure out some sort of vehicle capable of moving over any terrain (or water). It wouldn't be ready before the streets were fixed, but if they could figure something out, it would be invaluable in other disaster areas, and earn SI a mint in sales.

She'd just wrapped that up when Jarvis informed her that Rhodey had completed his mission, and was currently flying Doctor Ross to the Tower, and would be there within a few minutes. Pepper smiled, then told Jarvis to tell Rhodey to relax in the penthouse suite, and she'd be up to see him when she got a chance.

She'd just finished talking to Henry and approving the new campaigns when Jarvis pinged her again to get her attention.

"Miss Potts, Director Fury is on the line."

Pepper grinned viciously. "Put him on, Jarvis. By all means."

Fury had been having a really bad week. First, Barton had been compromised, and he'd been shot. That ... wasn't so bad. The getting shot, that is. Barton getting compromised, Fury had taken as a godsend. He'd hated the insolent little shit from the word go, and had fully expected Coulson to put a bullet in the brat's head.

It had never ceased to burn him up that Coulson managed to get Barton to work with him. Well enough that Fury couldn't excuse 'losing' the son of a bitch. SHIELD had no place for disrespectful loose canons. That Fury hadn't been able to capitalize on Barton's compromised state to kill him burned Fury up.

Then that Stark bastard had run to the freak brigade for help fighting the aliens that were coming. THEN, everyone had mysteriously gone incommunicado. He hadn't been able to get a call through to the Tower, where he knew damn well everyone had gone, in order to order Barton and Romanov back to HQ. He was blaming Stark for that one, too.

The ad and news campaign flashing Barton and Romanov's faces all over the place was just the icing on the cake. He needed to regain control and he needed to do it now. At least the call had finally got through. Better yet, to Potts.

"Put me through to Stark, Potts, wherever he's hiding. Or better yet, tell my team to get their asses back to HQ."

"I'm sorry, Director, but the Avengers are not available for interview at this time." Potts said.

Had Fury mentioned he loathed Stark's piece of tail on the side? Fury was convinced that was the sole reason Potts had gotten as far as she did. What other use did Stark have for a pretty face?

Pepper was enjoying stonewalling Fury. She knew exactly what Fury thought about her ... he'd hardly be the first, or the last, to think along those lines. She loved it when people like him underestimated her like that. It made her inevitable victory all the sweeter.

She wrangled back and forth with him for several minutes before Jarvis sent her a discrete ping, then flashed a message across a surface that Fury could not see, followed by several pages of a file. Pepper got one good look and very nearly laughed. Someone in the law department was going to get a hell of a pay raise. Because not even she had known this. She didn't think anyone did.

"Director Fury, a question if I may. Are you aware to whom your agency owes its ultimate existence?" Pepper asked.

Fury gave her a dirty look. "The SSR was our parent organization." He said, in a 'how do you not know this' tone of voice.

Pepper smiled. "Actually, Director, you are incorrect. After the loss of Captain Rogers, the SSR was shut down and disbanded completely. After all, it had been born for the Super Soldier project, and with the sole example lost, and no possibility of creating more, and no more war, the agency was redundant." Pepper said. "At that time, Howard Stark took upon himself the financial responsibility of locating Captain Rogers, retaining many of the old SSR staff under his employ for that purpose, as they had been comrades in arms for years."

Fury wasn't entirely stupid. From the look on his face, he knew where this was going.

"Near the time of his death, Howard was apparently well aware his time was running out." Pepper said. "Though I doubt he anticipated his death quite so young. He set up a fund and contracts so that the search for the Captain could continue unabated in the event of his death. It is from this beginning that SHIELD sprang."

Which meant, in simpler language, that SHIELD wasn't actually a governmental agency. It was a private one. One that had been put together by and answered to Howard Stark. And from the (still on *paper*) files someone in the law offices had found and copied, Howard had ensured that the infant agency he'd 'fathered' would remain under Stark control, due to his desire to find the Captain for at least a proper burial, if nothing else.

They were still receiving quite a chunk of their annual income from the fund Howard had set up, to boot. Fury had, essentially, performed a hostile takeover, unbeknownst to herself or even Tony. Though she did wonder if perhaps Stane had known. She wouldn't put it past him.

"Now, seeing as Stark Industries is actually your parent organization, the Avengers Initiative falls under our banner, as do the people assigned to the Initiative. Which means the Avengers are under Stark Industries employ, and I have deployed them as I see fit." Pepper smiled at Fury serenely.

Fury didn't miss what she hadn't said. Yes, she had laid claim to the Avengers, essentially telling him to back off, but there had been another threat there. 'I can and will shut you down if you fuck with me'. He gave an inarticulate snarl and signed off.

"May I offer my congratulations, Miss Potts?" Jarvis asked.

Pepper grinned. "Jarvis, whoever found those records, make sure they get the biggest pay raise and bonus in Stark Industries history. Because that? That was pure gold."

"I quite agree, Miss Potts, and have so informed the payroll department." Jarvis told her.

Pepper got another hour's work done before Jarvis suddenly interrupted, sans ping this time.

"Miss Potts, you should know that an Army team under the leadership of General Ross has been spotted making their way towards the Tower."

Pepper scowled. "I know he isn't here at the moment, Jarvis, but lock down the Avengers levels. Full protocols. I don't want anyone in or out of there that doesn't belong there. You have the current list of permitted persons. That way, if they come back before I run Ross off, Bruce will feel safe."

"Done, Miss Potts. Shall I alert the X-Men as to the situation?"

"Warn them they're going to have to be careful of the elevator." She said. "So they don't accidentally let someone into it with them. But hold off on bringing them back to the Tower for now. I want to see how Ross plays it first."

"Very well, Miss Potts." Jarvis said. He left a screen up for her, so she could watch the General's progress through the city.

Ross had never, would never, give up on capturing and containing the monster. So when he'd seen it rampaging around New York City ... again! ... he'd scrambled his team to get there as soon as possible to pick up the monster's trail. He *would* have the monster, one way or another, he would control it, and recreate it, and he would be forever vindicated and remembered in history as the man who revolutionized warfare as man knew it.

It didn't take long to find where the monster had gone. Stark was sheltering it. Well, Ross would fix that. He owed that man one after his condescension a year ago. Who the hell was Stark to question him? An Army General? Hadn't Stark learned to listen to his betters?

He stomped into the lobby of Stark Tower, and snorted when Stark's Rent-A-Cops tried to stop him and his men.

"Stand aside. We have government business to attend to."

"I'm sorry, General Ross, but we have been told to bar you entrance." The man in the lead said, giving Ross a level look.

"I am an Army General on a military mission, you will not bar me from that mission." Ross snapped, motioning his men forward.

"I sincerely doubt the Army has signed off on enslaving someone, *sir*." The man snapped, his tone loaded with contempt and scorn. Behind him, the rent-a-cops pulled their weapons.

Ross nodded to his men. But before they could do anything, two things happened at once. One, the rent a cops started shooting, and two, his men started dropping their guns. It took a few seconds before Ross realized the two things were not fully connected. The shots proved to be some sort of anesthetic dart rather than bullets. As for his men dropping their weapons, the floor seemed to have magnetized abruptly.

Clever. Stark had evidently outfitted his security teams with nonmetal weapons, banking on the fact that most invaders would use weapons that were either entirely or a good percentage metal.

The security chief had the gal to smirk at Ross. Ross snarled, turned, and stormed out, leaving his unconscious soldiers to their fates.


	16. Loki (Asgard)

Loki

A/N: Disclaimer's in the first chapter.

(_)(_)(_)(_)(_)(_)

Loki had expected a number of things from their trip to Asgard. He had expected the Midgardians to put forth a token effort at defending him. He'd expected to be judged guilty and then killed, or worse.

He had not expected Tony to silence him before he could speak in his own defense, though he realized Tony had thought he would simply offer his plea rather than attempt to sway Odin. He had not expected a demand for the full story. And he most especially had not expected anyone to get it, if they had asked. He'd assumed that if it came up, the person that asked would get an edited account of what had happened.

He hadn't expected the Midgardians' outrage on his behalf to be a palpable, almost visible thing. Nor had he expected to see a 'mere mortal' dressing down the Allfather like he was an erring child. Loki was going to treasure the Allfather's outraged bellow for the rest of his days.

But Lewis? That young female was ... breathtaking. She was not, after all, a warrior. And while Loki had long since learned the folly of assuming a non warrior was defenseless, Lewis was a mortal, facing off with immortals with powers she could not hope to possess. Watching her go on the warpath all the same had been a thing of beauty. She had been fierce and fearless in a way that no trained warrior could ever be, because warriors were trained to be fierce and fearless. This had been pure and raw, a force of nature unleashed.

And then she'd topped it by turning her back on the Allfather like she knew she had nothing to fear, and not because of the warriors at her back, slipped back into their protective cordon, and patted his arm before murmuring to him.

"No wonder you went off the deep end. What an asshole."

While Loki had always had his mother to rise to his defense, she had been his only consistent defender. Even Thor had failed him from time to time. So this ... this was unique in his experience. To have people see the trials to which he had been subjected and disapprove. He wasn't quite sure how to handle it, to be entirely honest. Though he was more than slightly tempted to laugh at her insult to the Allfather.

Frigga led them from the throne room herself, slipping her arm around one of his, which he bent automatically at her touch. Loki was familiar enough with the path they trod to be able to turn his attention to the others, and was forced to suppress his amusement. Rogers and Barton were staring at Lewis with dumbfounded awe and respect respectively. Romanov had the sort of slit-eyed, pleased look on her face one saw on a cat after a successful hunt. Banner was snickering quietly. Stark hadn't pulled his faceplate up yet, so Loki was unsure of his reaction.

Thor came up alongside Frigga, walking on the other side of her. "I do believe I misspoke, mother, when I announced the Lady Darcy." There was more than a little amusement in Thor's tone. "It would seem she is a true warrior at heart, as well as her other attributes."

Much to Loki's suprise, Frigga made an ill-concealed noise of amusement. "Indeed, Thor. I am inclined to agree. I have not seen the like since the Lady Sif beat up three young warriors in the training salle the first time she stepped into it."

Loki barely choked back a laugh. Mostly because he well remembered that day. Thor had been one of the ones Lady Sif had drubbed so badly. Mostly, it had to be admitted, because Thor had gone first, and had not expected the scrappy little girl Sif had been then to be any sort of challenge at all.

Thor, though, had no reservations about laughing, then grinned widely. "Aye, that was a day to be remembered." He agreed.

They were brought to the rooms they would be using for the night, and Frigga kissed both himself and Thor on the cheek before bidding them to summon a servant if there was aught they needed and taking her leave.

A few moments after she left, Stark finally lifted the faceplate of his helmet, and Loki discovered the true reason behind him keeping it down. Stark was positively *howling* with laughter. That got most of the rest going, and for several moments, there was naught but the sound of hilarity. Loki was amused to find himself trading exasperated eyerolls with Romanov.

Rogers was the first to recover. He turned to Lewis, a grin still tugging at his mouth. "Miss Lewis? I don't blame you for losing your temper. I'm not even going to scold you for bawling Odin out, because you were right, we all agree with you. But if something like this happens again? Please don't leave the safety of the group. If Odin had decided to try to hurt you, it would have been far too easy for him. And someone else might not refrain from attacking you."

Lewis cocked her head at Rogers for a moment before nodding. "Fair enough."

Foster reached over and smacked Lewis on the arm. "You are completely insane, you know that, right?" She asked.

Stark finally calmed down enough for speech. "That was beautiful, Lewis. I am seriously tempted to adopt you for that. I haven't seen that level of vicious since the last time some idiot pissed off Pepper."

Romanov cocked an eyebrow at Stark. "That idiot being you?"

Stark snorted. "Yeah, no. Not hardly. That would be Ross. Why do you *think* his reputation has tanked so suddenly in the last year, when he'd been chasing Bruce for years before that without any damage to his reputation?"

Romanov looked impressed. "That was her doing?"

Stark nodded. "She wanted to wreck his life the way he'd wrecked Bruce's. I may not be building weapons anymore, but I still have a lot of military contacts. She used them."

Lewis looked thoroughly discomfited by this, but also pleased. "I'm just sorry I couldn't taze Odin himself. He deserves it. But the leads wouldn't reach that far."

Loki stared at Lewis for a moment. "I find myself disappointed." He said. "The look on the Allfather's face would have been ... priceless, had that happened."

"Agreed." Stark said, staring at Lewis again.

"I'm with Stark." Barton said. "I *like* you. And kind of want to adopt you. You're almost as terrifying as she is." he indicated Romanov.

Thor was grinning like an idiot, one arm draped around Foster. "Come, friends. There are some hours before nightfall and the need for rest. I would give you a tour of Asgard, if you would agree."

Everyone seemed to agree to that. Well, except Loki.

"I will remain. My welcome is likely to be ... poor." Loki said.

Thor frowned at him. "Nay, brother. You will walk with us. And do any speak ill of you in my hearing, they will earn a taste of my wrath. If there is aught I learned from my sojourn to Midgard, it is that there is more to life than combat, and skill in other arenas should not be mocked. It is well beyond time such a lesson was learned by all in Asgard."

Damn Thor anyway. The big lug still seemed determined to drown Loki in affection and protection. It both warmed him and chafed him at the same time. Knowing that Thor would be stubborn about this, and that the others seemed to agree with him, Loki gave in to the inevitable. There were some things that even Loki Silvertongue could not achieve.

The tour went well enough. Only a handful of people dared to give Loki dirty looks or mutter about his presence. Thor was as good as his word, scowling viciously at the offenders, Mjolnir twitching in his grip. It was enough to subdue and silence all but the most impertinent and foolhardy.

Most that approached them seemed fascinated by the Midgardians, and content to ignore Loki in favor of sating their curiosity. The group returned to their assigned rooms and settled in for a night's rest, allowing Loki to finally have some peace and privacy in which to think.

He had a decision to make. Oh, the decision to leave Asgard and not return until Odin was dust was easily enough made. The real question was where to go from there, and what to do with himself. He had a number of options available to himself, even with the threat of Thanos hanging over his head. Given a week or so to fully recover from the last year, Loki knew he would be back to full strength. At which point he would be, if not able to defeat Thanos, then at the very least a formidable opponent. Loki might have limited himself to illusions and the like when he used his magic around other people, but he was capable of far, far more than that.

That said, Midgard was proving to be a very tempting place to spend the next while. Thor would be there, at least until the danger of Thanos was past ... if Thanos could be turned aside or defeated, that is. Possibly for the length of Foster's life, if their affections for each other remained true. Plus, Midgardians, while they still looked askance at persons who defied the 'norm' for their gender, did not scorn and ostracize such persons uniformly across the realm. In many places, ignoring gender barriers was actively encouraged. Beyond that, intelligence and ambition were prized commodities, no matter one's gender, and tended to be richly rewarded in one capacity or another. Well, richly rewarded by Midgardian standards, at least. And considering there had been no reward save those he gave himself, Loki wasn't about to sneer at approbation from any quarter.

The more Loki considered it, the more he realized the decision had been made. Midgard it was, then.

The next morning, Thor, Loki and the Midgardians joined the general assembly at the morning meal. Loki noticed that Thor chose to sit beside him, well away from both his usual companions and a scowling Odin. Once their fast had been broken, they removed themselves to the throne room once more.

Loki had no idea what Frigga had said or done to Odin overnight, but he seemed to at least be making an effort to not deliberately antagonize the Midgardians this morn.

"What further evidence have you?" Odin wanted to know. "To support your claims that Loki ought face no consequences for his fell deeds?"

The phrasing got him an irritated scowl from more than one of the Midgardians. "Well, if we're done pointing out the many, many, many ways that lying to Loki about who and what he was was wrong and bound to backfire horribly." Stark said, flashing teeth at Odin and, Loki knew, turning Odin's attempt to make Loki sound willfully guilty of everything that he was accused of back onto Odin. "There's the fact that Loki was not exactly in his right mind when he was making those decisions, which means he shouldn't be held responsible. It's a little something called 'diminished capacity' that we 'mere Midgardians' take into account when bad things are done by people."

"And you rest your claim of this 'diminished capacity' on what?" Odin wanted to know.

"The fact Loki tried to commit suicide." Stark said.

Loki flinched. Damn, he'd hoped that no one had picked up on that.

"See, according to Thor there, who was more or less eyeball to eyeball with Loki when it happened, Loki's hand didn't slip off the end of your spear there. He. Let. Go. And unless I'm missing something, he had absolutely no reason to think he'd survive a fall through the void. Anyone who's in the sort of frame of mind it takes to want to end their lives? Not exactly thinking rationally." Stark said.

"And even if he was fully in his right mind when he made those decisions, he landed in the lap of this Thanos joker. Who proceeded to spend the next months torturing Loki and trying his damndest to break Loki's mind. Granted, some shit went down, but I'm thinking Loki has paid the penalty for those actions several times over at Thanos' hands. Throwing him in jail, or whatever you were planning, is overkill."

Odin scowled at them. Loki kept his expression bland even as he wanted to smile. Odin doubtless realized that Loki's fate was, ultimately, out of his control. Through Heimdall and his ravens, Odin had seen what this particular band of Midgardians was capable of. Did they put their minds to it, they could reduce Asgard to rubble in a matter of days. And they were making it plain that they intended for Loki to be spared whatever judgement Odin had planned.

The Allfather knew a lost battle when he saw one, even if it displeased him greatly. "Your argument is made." He growled. "Loki Odin ... "

"Your pardon, Allfather." Loki interrupted. "But I am not, and never have been, an Odinson." He fought the desire to sneer at the name. "Nor a Laufeyson, thanks to your actions. It would seem, that I have no father." He looked at Frigga, the only parent he was willing to claim. "It is tradition, in Asgard, if the father of a child is in question, for the child to take the mother's name. If it please Queen Frigga, I will hereafter be known as Loki Friggasson."

Frigga gave him a brilliant smile. "It would please me greatly, my son." She said, then slid a look at Odin that was pure smug pleasure.

Odin looked as though he had swallowed glass. "So be it. Loki Friggasson, you are hereby found not guilty of the crimes to which you stand accused, and are free to go."

There was a brief cheer from some of the Midgardians. Loki gave the Allfather a nod and then turned and walked out. The Midgardians were quick to follow him.

"So, I say we blow this joint." Stark said. "And get back home."

There was general agreement from the rest of the Midgardians.

"Allow Thor and myself a bit of time to pack some of our things, so we need not return to Asgard unexpectedly, and we can leave. I confess I shall be glad to see the back of this realm." Loki said.

The Midgardians agreed to that, and Loki made haste to his rooms to pack his things. Not for the first time was he grateful for his skill at magic, else he would have never been able to pack even a tenth of what he had collected over the years.

Loki packed few baubles or mementoes ... he had few in the first place. He packed no clothing, as he would stand out in Asgardian attire. His armor, of course, did not need to be packed, as it went wherever he did. The bulk of what Loki packed was books, a formidable library of magical texts, histories for the various realms, and various treatises on subjects outside of magic that had caught Loki's interest over the years. The remainder of his luggage was weapons and the few aids and anchors he needed for more complicated magics. It all fit into a single trunk.

His own packing done, he went to rescue Thor, who was doubtlessly making a mess instead of packing. Sure enough, when Loki walked in, Thor's rooms looked as if they'd been attacked, Thor's belongings strewn hither and yon. Loki shook his head.

"Brother, you truly need a keeper." He sighed at Thor, who looked abashed. "Here, allow me to assist."

It was the work of moments to modify one of the trunks Thor had pulled out the way Loki had modified his own trunk. Then Loki sorted through the wreckage. "No clothing, Thor. We will be on Midgard, and it behooves us to dress as they do, outside of battle. Bring your extra weapons, as well. You may end up needing them."

Thor got himself straightened out after that, and got everything he wanted to take with him packed. Fifteen minutes later, they rejoined the Midgardians, and made their way to where Heimdall stood watch, the container holding the Tesseract in his hands.

"Gather in a circle, as you were when you arrived." Heimdall instructed in his deep voice. "With the Tesseract returned to us, the Bifrost will be rebuilt within a few weeks. If you have need of assistance, I will be watching."

Everyone gathered into the tight circle they'd been in when they left Stark Tower, and Heimdall activated the Tesseract. Loki squeezed his eyes shut against the bright light of being transported, and when he opened them, they had returned.

"Welcome home, Sir." Jarvis said seconds later. "Much has transpired in your absence."

Stark snorted. "I just bet it did."


	17. Bruce and Tony

Bruce and Tony

A/N: Disclaimer's in the first chapter.

(_)(_)(_)(_)(_)(_)

Bruce was incredibly relieved to leave Asgard behind. It had been a beautiful, intriguing place, but their reason for being there had not done good things to his sense of calm. The other guy was grumble-growling something fierce in the back of his mind and, weirdly, seemed almost ... guilty? Bruce wasn't quite sure, but whatever it was, it wasn't the usual rage.

It took them a few moments to sort themselves out. Tony had to get the suit off, and there were so many people on the balcony already that no one else could come out, and not being the tallest of the group, Bruce couldn't exactly see past everyone into the penthouse.

When the crush had cleared somewhat, Bruce was not at all surprised to find Pepper there, heading straight for Tony. The black man that came out behind her, though ... he grabbed all of Bruce's attention for a few moments, because he had a distinctly military bearing. The other guy stirred uneasily.

"Pep! Rhodey! You missed all the fun, sugarplum!"

The black man, Rhodey evidently, grinned. "Not hardly, Tone. Not hardly. We've been having fun while you lot were off playing geek."

"Everybody, this is Rhodey. Rhodey, this is everybody." Tony said, waving expansively. Then he grabbed Rhodey's arm and all but dragged him over to Bruce. Bruce tensed worriedly. "Brucie, this is Rhodey. I know you have a thing with military types, but Rhodey's cool. He's put up with *me* for years."

To Bruce's surprise, Rhodey just smiled at him, and offered a hand to shake. "Doctor Banner. It's going to be nice to have someone around here for Tony to talk geek at. I don't understand about seventy five percent of what he says when he gets going." Then, Rhodey got a bit more serious. "And for the record? Ross is a moron who makes a mockery of the uniform. When I found out what he'd been trying to do ... " Rhodey shook his head. "How he's escaped a court martial, I don't know."

Bruce swallowed a couple of times as the tension that had started to knot between his shoulders eased. "Thank you."

"Rhodey, you did remember Bruce's present, right? Tell me you remembered his present."

Rhodey laughed. "I remembered it, all right." He said. "It's been here since midday yesterday. I missed you guys by a couple hours. It's down in his room right now."

"Perfect. You're a peach, Rhodey. Don't let anyone tell you otherwise. C'mon, Bruce. You're going to *like* this present. C'mon, c'mon. Go go go!"

Bruce had no choice but to laugh, in the face of Tony acting like an eager child, and allowed Tony to herd him towards the elevator.

"I know you guys kind of all congregated in the penthouse, and that's cool, but I sort of built floors for everybody once I found out about the Initiative." The elevator doors opened, and Bruce stepped out of the elevator, then stopped and stared in shock. He didn't even notice when Tony didn't follow him, and the elevator doors closed behind him.

The floor had been designed with both him and the other guy in mind. The entire floor was open-plan, with as few walls as humanly possible. All the furniture was low and wide and looked like it was strong enough to support even the other guy's weight. Floor clutter had been kept to a minimum ... it looked like everything that could be had been recessed into the walls, which allowed for more freedom of movement for someone the other guy's size, and reducing the odds of him trashing things. There was a thirty foot ceiling, plenty high enough to keep even the twelve-foot-tall other guy from feeling closed in. The walls were done in warm beiges, blues, and greens. There were big, sturdy planters with various plant life tucked into numerous alcoves and a waterfall against one wall, and like up in the penthouse, one entire wall was nothing but windows.

Bruce had to close his eyes against the swell of emotion. Tony had designed and built this. To accommodate both Bruce and the other guy. It was enough to take him out at the knees, because this? This was a level of welcome and acceptance he hadn't seen since Betty. God, he missed her.

"Hello, Bruce."

Bruce's eyes snapped open and his head snapped around at the sound of that voice so fast it was a wonder he didn't give himself whiplash. And he was back to staring, because rising from one of the couches (how had he not seen her?) ... was none other than Betty.

"Betty." He all but whispered her name, not quite daring to believe that she was really there.

But then she was closing the distance between them, smiling warmly at him. Hugging him. That broke Bruce at least partially out of his stunned paralysis, and he buried his face in the crook of her neck, breathing in her scent and holding her tight as it finally sunk in that this was real, that Betty was here.

They stood like that for a while. How long, Bruce didn't know and didn't care. Eventually, though, they adjourned to the couch, where Bruce ended up with his head in Betty's lap while she ran her fingers through his hair. Quiet reigned for a while longer, before Bruce finally broke it.

"I didn't think I'd ever see you again." He admitted.

"I was afraid of the same thing." She admitted. "The General ... " She sighed and shook her head. "Well, it hardly matters now. It's over, I'm here, you're here. So far everyone I've talked to here has nothing bad to say about you or ... is Hulk really his name?" She asked.

"Not ... really. It's just what people call him. I don't know that he has one." Bruce said, then grinned up at her. "You were right, by the way, the last time we talked. You said he could be reached and reasoned with. I thought you were full of it then, but you were right. I've ... learned to stop fighting him, all the time. It's not perfect, but it's better."

Betty smiled down at him. "That's good. That's really good." Then, she playfully tweaked his nose. "Maybe next time you'll listen to me." She scolded mildly.

"I am officially never not listening to you again." Bruce told her. "I should know better than to not listen to you by now, really."

That got him another of her radiant smiles. "I've been exploring the place since I arrived." She said, eyes gleaming. "Have you had a chance to see the labs?"

Bruce shook his head. "No. I was sleeping the transformation off that evening, then we took off for Asgard right after breakfast the next morning. But Tony invited me to check his labs out, before the fight. Called it Candyland."

"He's not wrong. I've *never* seen labs like this, Bruce. Then again, we've never had a sugar daddy billionaire who likes to play with science toys."

Bruce laughed. "I want to see his face when you call him that. I really do." He said. "The other guy likes him." He admitted. "He doesn't even hesitate around me, Betty. Something happened to make the other guy want to come out really bad somewhere that him coming out was a very, very bad idea, and Tony plunked himself down five feet from me and started telling old science jokes to help me pull the other guy back."

Betty smiled widely. "I'm glad. I'm glad he's not afraid. None of the others seemed to be, either. It's good to see."

"It's even better to experience." Bruce said. "I had planned to tell Tony I'd stay, once we got back, even before this." He waved a hand, indicating the floor and Betty. "But now he's going to have to resort to drastic measures to get me to leave."

"Teletubbies on loop?" Betty offered.

"Don't give him ideas." Bruce begged with a laugh.

Tony gave the closed elevator doors a soft, pleased smile that the general public never, ever saw on his face. Hell, only Pepper and Rhodey had seen that smile. Then Tony bounced on the balls of his feet, and the grin morphed to something closer to a smirk.

"J, when they remember the rest of the world exists, tell them they're welcome to order in if they're not ready to join the horde just yet." He said.

"Certainly, Sir." Jarvis said.

Moments later, the elevator doors opened, revealing the penthouse again. Tony bounced forward and headed for Pepper, wrapping an arm around her and kissing her cheek.

"So. According to both Jarvis and Rhodey, you guys had some fun while we were away." Tony told Pepper.

Pepper smiled at him. "Definitely. Fury finally called a little bit after you guys left."

Tony grinned. "Do tell!"

"He wanted Barton and Romanov back. We exchanged a few words. Then one of the legal team I'd set to finding anything that could be used for or against us with SHIELD found this." She handed him a Starkpad with a file already on the screen.

Tony took it and scanned it quickly. Stopped. Blinked. Then went back and read it. Carefully. Slowly. Then he looked up at Pepper, eyes wide. "Tell me this says what I think it does."

Pepper grinned at him. "You own SHIELD. Literally. It's a Stark Industries company. Fury just pulled a hostile takeover after your father died."

A wide, toothy grin slowly took over Tony's face. "I own SHIELD." He practically purred the words. "I. Own. SHIELD." And then he started snickering and the grin turned positively evil. "I can fire Fury. Hey! Get Agent up here. He's about to get a promotion."

Pepper laughed. "I had a feeling you'd say that, and talked to Phil late last night when he came up to get some sleep finally. He told me to tell you he'd taze you if you tried to give him the job. He's got enough to do trying to keep up with Natasha and Clint."

Tony pouted. "Damn. Well, I'll try to figure out what the hell do to do with SHIELD and Fury later. What else did we miss?" Tony wanted to know.

"The *other* Ross showed up. Three times." Pepper said, sounding faintly exasperated. "The first time, I don't think he knew his daughter was here. The second time, he definitely did. He was literally frothing at the mouth."

Tony shook his head. "The security protocols working?"

"Like a charm. And the security team leader threatened to shoot Ross on sight if he shows his face again." Pepper said.

"Ohhh, I like that guy. J, make sure he gets a raise."

"Certainly, Sir."

"How're the X-Men doing?"

"Good. That new guy, the one Steve knows, finally came out of hiding after you guys left. He seems to have adjusted to what Steve told him." Pepper said. "They've been working with the aid teams the entire time. Laura wants to keep Hank and Kurt, I think." She said with a laugh. "She told me they were a godsend to rescue operations."

"Duh. Hank's a certified genius, stronger than Rogers, and a capable field medic. And Kurt can teleport, which means he can get people to help or safety a heck of a lot faster than anyone else possibly could." Tony waved a hand. "But she can't keep them. I have first dibs."

Pepper smiled at him. "Of course, Tony." She said. "Though I think Charles doesn't see it your way."

Tony waved that away. "He's old. Old people get senile. They're mine."

Tony shook himself and then straightened. "I'd better point everyone where they need to go while the X-Men aren't around to get all jealous of the team's digs." He clapped his hands.

"Everybody into the elevator. Bring your stuff. Move it people. Let's go." He started waving his hands at the rest of the Avengers, trying to shoo them onto the elevator.

After a few amused looks between themselves, they went. Tony slid in with them.

"Ok, here's the thing. Floors. You have them. Top's me, of course. But if you noticed, the balcony curves down to the next floor down. Thor, buddy, that one's yours. The balcony is reinforced to take me landing on it hard, so it'll handle you no problem." The doors opened to Thor's floor.

"Reindeer Games, I don't have a floor set up special for you, because you were a surprise. You can either hang out here with Fabio or take one of the generic floors until I can kit something out for you."

Loki considered Thor, then Jane, then looked at Tony. "As much as I would be pleased to live near my brother, I believe a floor to myself might be prudent."

"Right, you got it. No problem. Ok, Thor? One rule. No calling Mjolnir unless you can see it, or unless you can make it curve around things. Because if you start knocking holes in everything, you and I will be having words, god of thunder or no." Tony shook a finger at him. "I made sure everything in here was strong enough to deal with your level of strength, too."

Thor took the scolding in good part. "My thanks, friend Stark." He said looking around. The room was bright and airy and things were clearly labeled and, where possible with electronics, kept simple so that Thor could operate them without having to resort to assistance from Jane. "These are most handsome lodgings."

"Next up is you, Rogers." Tony said. He grinned when neither Thor nor Jane actually got off on their floor, clearly wanting to check out everyone else's places.

Steve's floor was an artist's dream. Like Bruce and Thor's it was open-plan, and had one whole wall that was nothing but windows, affording a spectacular view of the city below. Like with Thor's quarters, Tony had kept the electronics simple, as no matter how adaptable Steve might be, it was a heck of a jump from 40's tech to the sorts of things Tony built and preferred to use, which Steve would have to deal with elsewhere. Tony had decided that having simpler tech that Steve wouldn't have to fight to figure out how to use in his li living area was a good idea. One corner of the main living space was taken up with all manner of artistic necessities, a tilted drawing desk, shelves with drawing supplies in every conceivable medium stacked neatly alongside a veritable forest of different weights of paper and other surfaces on which to draw.

"Next up are the community floors. First floor has a communal kitchen and dining area, and a communal entertainment area with games, TV, that sort of thing. Basically, somewhere for everyone to hang out when we want to." Tony told them. The entertainment floor was also ringed by a catwalk and small lofts for certain folks who liked to be up high.

"Second floor is a training area. I've got a standard firing range in there, weights calibrated for us normal people and ones for you super strong types. Special punching bags for you, Rogers, since I hear you like to wreck them. You won't manage to wreck these." Tony grinned. "There's an infinity pool, a regular pool and an area to spar in. There's also stuff to turn the sparring area into a gymnastic area. And Legolas, there's a special range for you in the basement. Standard shooting range just didn't go long enough, and there wasn't room to go further in the Tower itself." Tony wasn't going to tell Barton that it wasn't just the length of the range that was different. He was going to let Barton find that out on his own.

Barton eyed Tony. "You built a range especially for me."

"Yup." Tony said, popping the 'p'.

"Marry me."

Tony laughed. "Sorry. I am a one-Pepper man, Barton. "Bruce is the next floor, but I think if I let you guys see right now, he might just kill me." Tony said. "After him are the floors for you two and Agent. They're sort of interchangeable, since I didn't know if you two would want to live together or what the deal was."

Like the others thus far, the 'Agent' floors were open-plan, with high ceilings. Ceilings that was ringed by a narrow catwalk and little lofts like the communal entertainment floor. One of them had a distinct red-white-and-blue color theme that only just escaped being a Captain America tribute in that there was nary a star nor stripe in sight. It was, for Tony, a subtle poke at Agent's fanboy status.

"There's several empty floors below you guys that're intended for Avengers, since I didn't know how big the team would be, and the labs are below that, not that anyone in here but Foster cares about that. And that's it. Go scoot. Enjoy. If you need anything, let Jarvis know and you'll have it next day at the latest unless you're asking for something that needs to be built." Tony told them, and then proceeded to head them back up, shooing everyone out on their designated floors as they went.


	18. Scott and Logan

Scott and Logan

A/N: Disclaimer's in the first chapter.

(_)(_)(_)(_)(_)(_)

Scott groaned as he leaned against the wall of the elevator. He had a headache that bordered on being a migraine from using his optic blasts so much the last three days. He'd spent the two and a half days since the attack using his blasts to cut rubble into pieces that could be managed by the helicopters or rescue crews. He'd hadn't used them as much in a month as he'd used them the last three days.

Carefully, he rubbed at his temples, trying to ease the tension. Thank goodness the X-Men would be returning to the mansion in the morning. While they all wanted to help, and Scott planned to sent a rotating roster of the team to the city every day, they really couldn't afford to have the entire team gone from the mansion for any longer. Charles was formidable, but as Scott had learned six months ago, he could be taken out of action. And while several of the older teens had admirable control of their powers, leaving them to defend the mansion while the entire team was gone was a port of last resort.

That said, it had been incredibly gratifying to be openly welcomed and hailed as a hero by what had seemed to be the entire populace of downtown NYC. Scott wasn't fool enough to think it would last, or that it had even been that overwhelming a percentage, but it was nice while it lasted.

"Your pardon, Mr. Summers, but Sir took the liberty of ensuring certain pharmaceuticals were stocked in the infirmary on the lowest level of the Avengers' floors." Jarvis said, his voice pitched to a near-whisper.

Scott blinked at the ceiling. "In other words, he has my migraine medication, and go get it." He said, sounding faintly amused.

Yeah, he couldn't stand Tony ninety percent of the time, but then he did stuff like this and Scott just couldn't find it in him to bitch at Tony. "Sounds like a plan." He said. He didn't have a migraine yet, but he was so close to the edge it wouldn't take much to tip him over.

The elevator doors opened on the floor in question, and Scott quickly found the drug cabinet. He swallowed a pill dry. "Thanks, Jarvis. And thank Tony for me."

"You are welcome, Mr. Summers. And I shall do so." Jarvis said.

Scott got back in the elevator and went all the way up to the penthouse suite where he and the other X-Men had slept the night before. He blinked when he spotted Logan. He hadn't seen Logan since Captain Rogers had recognized him.

He and Logan had had a rough start. Logan was as prickly as a porcupine, suspicious to the point of paranoia and blunt and plain-speaking to the point of offense, not to mention aggressive. It really hadn't helped that they both had alpha male personalities. Things had started to get a bit better in the weeks following the Liberty Island incident.

For one, Scott's initial impression of Logan had gotten a hell of an adjustment. Because yes, Logan was all those things, but he would also go to any length to help someone under his protection. And for all his antagonism with the adults in the mansion, Logan had seemingly inexhaustible amounts of patience and an almost shocking gentleness with the kids. Especially Rogue, and, incredibly, one of the more ... damaged ... kids in the mansion, John Allerdyce.

For that, Scott could forgive Logan a lot, and had done his best to form, if not a friendship, then at least a less antagonistic alliance with the man. That plan had actually met with some success over the last few months. It helped that Scott was used to not taking Tony's flirting with Jean seriously. It made learning to do the same when Logan flirted with her a lot easier. Of course, the fact that Jean had come up with her own reward system for Scott tolerating Logan had helped *immensely*. Despite Scott's reputation for having a steel rod up his ass, he was all for that sort of reward scheme.

Logan wasn't the only 'returnee' in the room, either. The Avengers were back. Scott wandered over by Tony, who was talking animatedly with Doctor Banner. "Tony. How was Asgard?"

"Hey one-eye! You missed out on some fun. Fabio and Reindeer Games decided to hang out on Earth full time for a while. Loki didn't get in trouble with Odin, either." Tony smirked widely.

Scott eyed the smirk. That expression said there was something Tony wasn't saying, and that whatever it was, Tony thought it was great. Given the situation, and Tony's general idea of 'great' things, Scott was almost afraid to ask. Almost.

"Ok, what else happened. Because you have that look on your face." He said.

"What look?" Tony asked, trying for innocent and not even getting close. Scott was entirely convinced that Tony was incapable of looking innocent as a toddler, nevermind as an adult.

"That look."

Tony snorted, but then caved. "Darcy tazed a guard. And bitched out Odin. It was gorgeous to watch."

Scott frowned, trying to remember which of the young women he'd seen for all of about five minutes the morning before. "Which one is she?"

Tony pointed. "The one *not* currently cuddled up to a god of thunder." Tony said.

Scott turned and spotted the two women he'd met so very briefly. Sure enough, one of them was tucked against Thor's side and looking thoroughly pleased to be there. The other was a few feet away, talking with Hank.

"Ahhh, ok. And she got away with this?" Scott said.

Tony smirked. "Yeah. Like I said, gorgeous to watch. And funny as hell."

Scott snorted. "Well, I'm out of here. I need a shower and some sleep." And a chance to let the migraine medicine do its work, but he'd wanted to find out what had happened in Asgard first.

From her spot near Darcy and Hank, Jean got to her feet and headed for the bedroom they were both using. Scott met up with her halfway there.

"Darcy is attempting to argue Hank into letting her help him get cleaned up." Jean said, sounding thoroughly amused.

"I wish her luck with that." Scott said sincerely. Hank was ... touchy ... about his mutation. Despite the fact it was impossible for him to effectively clean or brush roughly half his body, he point-blank refused anyone's assistance. "She may even succeed." He said. "If she's brave enough to yell at a guy that's essentially a god."

"Did she really?" Jean asked.

Scott nodded. "Not sure of all the details, but according to Tony, she 'bitched out Odin'." He headed for the attached bathroom. "I'm for the shower. I have dust and grit in places I really don't want to think about."

Jean smiled at him. "All right. I'd offer to join you, but you're wincing."

It was things like that that made Scott fall in love with her all over again. That she watched him closely enough, cared to get to know him well enough, to be able to tell when he was wincing. With pretty much the entire top half of his face was obstructed from view, noticing something like that took careful observation. That she knew what him wincing meant, and that as much as he loved her, getting frisky was very much not on the table tonight. And she was ok with that. Scott kissed her on the cheek, then went to go get clean.

Logan had spent the last couple days taking his confusion and irritation out on defenseless rubble. And, much to his aggravated amusement, attracting a growing assortment of traumatized kids that had gone to ground during the attack and were only now beginning to come out of their hidey holes.

Logan hadn't been able to figure out at first what the hell it was about him that drew kids to him. He honestly hadn't know that about himself before Rogue had stumbled into his life, mostly because the sorts of places he patronized were extremely short on anyone under the age of twenty-one. When more and more of the youngest kids at the mansion had started trailing after him, he'd thought Rogue was talking him up to them at first.

She'd laughed at him when he'd accused her of it to her face, then explained it to him. "You put out this vibe, Logan. A really solid, protective vibe. It's a hell of a draw when your world's been turned on its ass. Meeting you was the first time I'd felt safe since I ran away from home."

Logan had snorted and ruffled her hair, which made her grin.

"And in my case, it really doesn't hurt that you've never once flinched away from me. That you do shit like that to me, despite my skin."

Logan had had to grumble at that. Yeah, Rogue's skin was dangerous, even to him if she held on too long, but for god's sake, that didn't mean people had to keep a thirty foot radius around her at all times. She kept herself covered up enough that about the only way for an accident to happen would be for her to trip and literally face plant into someone AND have her face hit bare skin. Not real good odds on that happening.

Though he was man enough to admit the discovery that touching her hair didn't trigger her skin had been made accidentally. Logan was the only one who wasn't afraid to hug Rogue, and he'd been doing exactly that one day when her hood shifted enough to expose her ear, which had been covered by her hair. Because Logan didn't freak the hell out if she got within five feet of him, he hadn't realized it until he'd gone to pat her head and touched hair. And hadn't gotten zapped by her skin. A careful experiment revealed that as long as a thick hank of her hair was in the way, touching wasn't a problem. He'd been ruffling her hair ever since.

Thankfully, Logan wasn't the only one not scared of her. There were a few others. A couple of girls, and then of course Bobby, who was dating Rogue. All things considered, Logan kind of liked Bobby. He'd had the balls to try to intimidate Logan and warn him away from Rogue in a romantic sense.

Not that Logan had actually ever looked at Rogue in a sexual light. She was sixteen fuckin' years old, for fuck's sake. Logan was a lot of things, but a pedophile for fuckin' sure wasn't one of them. He could see where people might get a bit confused, though. It wasn't like he and Rogue weren't tight as hell, and had been from the word go. Even Logan still didn't understand how the hell that had happened, and Rogue was a mature sixteen that if you didn't know better could pass for eighteen, so he could understand folks getting confused.

The fact that she acted more than a little bit like him, thanks to absorbing so much of him, probably didn't help. He'd overheard Jean and Hank debating about why the hell Rogue still showed signs of his personality, and even his speech patterns sometimes, when she'd never shown so much as a flicker of that fucker Mags' personality, and she'd got about as much from him as she'd gotten from Logan.

Logan had eventually gotten curious enough to ask Rogue that question himself, despite the fact Jean and Hank had asked her and apparently not gotten an answer. Logan had not been at all surprised to get an answer himself.

"I didn't want him in my head." Rogue said. "And you were there, poured into me and desperate to protect me, save me. So I didn't fight you. Let you flood everything until there was nothing of *him* left." She'd grinned at him. "Guess it took long enough to wipe him out that some stuff from you became permanent. I really don't mind."

Logan could definitely live with the idea of a piece of him wrapped up in Rogue's mind, ready to protect her from another invasion. He just wished she hadn't had to deal with the nightmares that had plagued her for months after the incident that had nothing to do with what she'd gone through. She had enough to deal with without dealing with his crap too.

He'd called her yesterday, told her about Rogers, and what Rogers'd said. Thanks to having absorbed so much of him, she understood where he was at right now. Just having that sympathetic ear had helped a bit. Helped him figure out what the hell to do with it, now that he had any answer at all to who he'd been, when he'd never expected to discover anything at all.

So Logan planned to hang around a lot. Maybe even work with the so-called Avengers. God knew, that with two assassins and the Hulk on their team, they wouldn't be as prone to looking at him cockeyed as the X-Men were. His 'shoot first, questions later, if they live' mentality had been a bit of a sore spot with the more pacifistic group.


	19. Tony and Steve

Tony and Steve

A/N: Disclaimer's in the first chapter. Brief mention of PTSD and its triggers ahead, as well as part of the incident that caused the PTSD in the first place.

(_)(_)(_)(_)(_)(_)

The day after Asgard, Tony headed for his lab.

Not without a bit of a discussion with Pepper, first, it must be said. She'd wanted him to help with the recovery effort more. Tony had pointed out that he really didn't need the publicity, and he *did* need to not only fix the Mark VI so it was operable, he needed to build at least one new suit besides the Mark VII, because the Six was going to be nothing more than a 'I am so fucked and all my other suits are dead, need something now!' backup.

Thankfully, Pepper knew him well enough to know that keeping him out of the lab made him rather cranky, so she didn't push. Tony grinned as he yanked on a thick black tank top and then an old, faded AC/DC shirt, blanking out almost all of the glow from the reactor.

Normally, he didn't wear the tank top too, but there were relative strangers in his house. Tony could barely tolerate Pepper touching his chest most days. His chest, not the reactor. Not even she got to touch the reactor without him reacting. He'd kept the reactor covered and hidden as much as possible since Stane, unless he was in the suit.

Part of him realized he was being fucking ridiculous. No one in the Avengers section of the Tower was going to steal the reactor, for fuck's sake. He knew that. But he kept it covered all the same. PTSD was a bitch, but he'd learned to deal. He'd reengineered the damn reactor so that he could fix and replace it without assistance. He'd learned to avoid still the water issue by switching to bubblebaths or showers only. And he made damn sure to keep his armor in place in public.

Dummy was right on the other side of the lab door, clicking and whirring anxiously. Tony patted his claw. For all Tony's bitching about Dummy, Dummy had always been his favorite of the three bots. And that was before Dummy had saved his life.

And as it turned out, not even simple AI's were completely immune to their equivalent of worry. Dummy had developed a habit, after the Stane incident, of checking Tony for visible damage anytime he was gone from the lab for any length of time.

Tony was perfectly fine with being an enabler. So he moved far enough into the lab that Dummy could circle him and check him over. Once Dummy came to a stop in front of him, he patted Dummy's claw again.

"I'm fine, Dummy. No damage. Now scoot. We've got work to do."

Dummy chirped happily and scooted off as fast as his wheels would let him.

"He was more worried than usual." Jarvis said. "I was unable to prevent them being aware of the attack."

Tony sighed. "Yeah, that'd do it." He said. "All the replacement panels fabricated?"

"Indeed, Sir. Do you wish to begin with the repairs, or were you planning on working on developing a new armor first?"

Tony headed where the Mark VI was lying in sections on one of the larger workbenches. "Repair first, Jarvis. Playtime later. Run track four for me, will you?"

"Of course, Sir." And moments later, the lab speakers were blasting heavy metal at ear-bleeding levels. Tony grinned, grabbed a wrench, screwdriver, and pair of pliers and went to work stripping the wrecked panels off.

He'd gotten most of the wrecked panels off and was fighting with and cursing at the crumpled, twisted mess that was the right forearm gauntlet about an hour later. Several of the connections and joints that held the gauntlet panels to the rest of the suit had gotten crushed, making yanking them off particularly difficult. Dummy was hovering, endeavoring to be helpful and, as per normal, mostly getting in the way.

He'd just snagged his finger on a jagged edge when the connection he'd been working on unexpectedly snapped out of his grasp when Jarvis interrupted him.

"Sir, Captain Rogers is at the door and wishes to speak with you."

Tony grumbled as he cleaned his hand enough to dab some skin glue on the cut so he could finish with the suit. "Let him in, Jarvis, and turn the music down."

The door popped open and Rogers stuck his head in.

"Not out saving kittens today, Cap?" Tony asked.

"Pepper wanted one of us to stay just in case Ross tried something again today." Rogers told him. "So I volunteered. My being Army might help."

Tony snorted. "Your being you will be what helps." It was only then he glanced over at Steve, who was staring around the room in interest.

"You know, when you said lab, I was picturing ... something a lot different." Rogers said.

Tony laughed. "Most people do." He agreed. "So you're down here ... why?"

"Curiosity. Fury's file on you was ... " Steve's brow wrinkled. "Incomplete."

Tony laughed. "Now there's a shocker. What'd you want to know?"

He wasn't quite ready for the question Steve asked first.

When Pepper had asked for someone to stay in the Tower against Ross being an idiot, Steve jumped at the opportunity. For one, while he liked helping people, he still felt like a performing monkey doing so in the uniform, which Pepper's plan for positive media exposure sort of required that they do that so they were recognizable as Avengers. Well, at least for everyone except Tony. Tony was recognizable enough to get away with not using the suit.

Besides, he really wanted to talk to Tony. Of everyone in the group, he knew the least about Tony, thanks to Fury. Clint and Natasha were easy enough to figure out, even if he didn't know specifics. Snipers were snipers, even if they used ... unique ... weapons. It wasn't too hard to figure the sorts of missions Clint had been on. Same general idea for Natasha. Steve knew he was probably missing the magnitude of their ops by a margin, but he was at least in the general neighborhood. Bruce had been easy enough to look up to find stuff he'd published. As for Thor ... well, Steve had read the Eddas. He was pretty sure a good chunk of it was nothing but tall tales, because he can't begin to see Thor doing some of it, but it gives him a base to work from if nothing else.

Tony? At this point, Steve's not willing to bet that what Fury put in Tony's file isn't a bunch of lies. So he's going to start from scratch.

He headed down to the lab, and walked in when the door opened. He blinked when he got in, because this place was ... not a lab. At least, not the sort of lab Steve was used to. This place bore a closer resemblance to a mechanic's garage. There were tools, grease, parts and machinery everywhere. Steve could see a big bundle of parts that looked like it might be the Iron Man armor minus the red and gold exterior sitting on one big work bench. Tony was hunched over another workbench, cussing a blue streak at ... something that Steve couldn't see from this angle.

He let Tony's playful-sounding jabs roll over him until he could finally ask the question he wanted the answer to the most. "What happened in Afghanistan that changed things?" He asked.

For a moment, he wondered if he should have gone with something easier, because Tony abruptly went white as a sheet and sort of hunched in on himself.

"Darn, Tony, I ... you don't have to answer that. I shouldn't have ... " Steve stammered.

That seemed to make Tony rally. He uncurled a bit. "It's fine, Cap." He said, a blatant lie if Steve had ever heard one. "What made you ask?"

And Steve recognized a stalling tactic when he heard it, but given Tony's reaction, he was going to go with it. "I know what a man on a mission looks like." Steve said. "The thing about missions is ... something has to happen to get you on one."

"Being kidnapped isn't enough?" Tony asked, his tone odd.

"Can be. But then why keep going? From what I've pieced together, you wiped out the people that took you within weeks of making the second suit. If it was just about kicking their asses, you'dve quit then."

Tony regarded him for several long moments. "There was another guy there." He said, his tone quiet and strained. "Yinsen. He's the one that kept me alive." A drum of fingers over where Steve knew the arc reactor was illustrated how. "Helped me build the first suit." Tony took a deep, shaky breath. "He didn't make it out. Got shot up during the escape trying to buy me time for the suit's computer to boot up. I found him before he died. He told me not to waste my life."

Then Tony buried himself in fussing with the piece on the workbench he'd been cussing at. Steve let him go for a few minutes, let him get his feet back under him for a bit. Sat down on a nearby bench to watch Tony work. Once Tony's motions became less spastic and his face and body lost some tension, Steve spoke up.

"The night before the procedure, Erskine and I talked." He said. "He had a bottle of schnapps. Planned to give me some to drink, before he remembered alcohol before the procedure wasn't a good idea." Steve's mouth twisted. "He told me why he'd chosen me for the procedure. He told me about the Red Skull, and what had gone wrong. That the serum worked on what a person already was. His exact words were 'good becomes great. Bad becomes worse." Steve sighed. "He made me promise to stay a good man, not a perfect soldier. The next day, when everything happened ... he reminded me of the promise just before he died."

Tony looked over at him, and the two of them shared a long look, recognizing that they both had a common factor in their lives. A mission they'd been put on by people who had seen the good in them. Then Tony gave his head a shake.

"Yeah, ok, whatever. We are not *girls*, Rogers. We are not sharing the moments of our lives here. If you're going to stay down here, make yourself useful and help me get this fucking panel off."

Steve laughed and pulled his seat over to the workbench. "This part of the suit that Thor crunched?"

Tony nodded. "Yeah. the arm gauntlet, which took the worst of it. Guy has a hell of a grip on him, to do this to the suit. It's not exactly made of tin." Tony said.

Steve peered at the panel that was apparently giving Tony so many problems, and spotted where it was all but fused to two bits of metal that connected it to the rest of the suit. "If I yank this off, the connections are going to come with it."

"That's fine. They have to be replaced anyway." Tony said.

Steve nodded, got a grip on the piece, and gave it a yank. It came off in his hand with a short squeal of distressed metal. Tony promptly stole the piece from his fingers and tossed it in a nearby bin.

"Finally! Now I can get the connections fixed and replaced and then deal with the wiring."

Steve wandered over to the remains of the suit and examined it curiously. He was surprised at the complexity of what the flashy exterior concealed.

"How the heck did you even come up with this?" He asked.

"A familiarity with flight systems and a fuckton of trial and error. Mostly error." Tony said, with a wince that indicated a painful memory. Given what the Iron Man suit was capable of, Steve had little doubt that whatever had gone wrong had ended up being painful.

About then, some ... thing ... on wheels came buzzing over and poked at him. It took Steve a minute to realize it was some sort of machine.

"Your machine is poking at me, Tony."

Tony glanced up, then laughed. "That's Dummy. He was the first AI I built, back when I was seventeen. He's just checking you out. I don't normally get a lot of visitors in here. Dummy, leave the man be."

Dummy whirred and clicked in a way that Steve was sure was some sort of communication, circled Steve one last time, then rolled away again.

"Sorry, but he's a bit ... special." Tony said. "His code's pretty limited."

"You built that when you were *seventeen*?" Steve finally sputtered.

"Yep." Tony said, popping the 'p'.

"That is ... " Steve shook his head, unable to articulate it. "Really keen." He finally settled on, though he winced, as he was aware of how ... dated ... such a phrasing probably sounded.

Things went quiet for a while. Steve ended up plopping himself down in one of the extra chairs and just watching as Tony put the suit back together again. It was such a contrast to Tony's usual style elsewhere.

Generally, Tony seemed incapable of keeping his mind focused on any one thing at a time, and jumped from subject to subject when he talked, with little rhyme or reason. Here, though, Steve was fairly sure that Tony had forgotten Steve was in the room, all his attention on the task before him.

Eventually Tony sat back with the air of a man who'd completed a task and done well. He wiped his hands on a rag, then turned. In the process he spotted Steve and jumped about a foot off his chair.

"JEEZE, Rogers, you're still here?"

Steve shrugged. "Nothing better to do until Ross shows up." He said.

Tony gave him a sideways look like he didn't quite believe it, then shrugged and turned his attention away. "All right, J. heat up the design program and let's get cracking."

Seconds later, the air was full of blue light that coalesced into the outline of the suit, only at about quarter-size. Steve did a double take in surprise. He'd seen all sorts of things since he'd woken up, but he'd had no idea they had technology that could project an image in the air.

And then Tony started poking the image, and it turned and expanded. Tony grabbed something and pulled it into his hand to examine it. Steve couldn't restrain a shocked gasp. It was ... he could ... ? How?

Tony heard him and glanced over, then grinned. "Oh, you haven't seen this before. You won't see it anywhere outside of the Tower. It's only Jarvis that can do this. It takes a lot of computing power, and most people use that sort of power for other things."

"But it's ... real? You can touch it?" Steve asked.

"Yes and no." Tony said, then waved him over. "C'mere. Here, hold your hand out, palm flat." Steve did so, and Tony put the piece he'd pulled out to examine on Steve's palm.

There was no weight at all. No real sense of the thing's edges and dimensions, but there was a faint electric tickle against his skin that told him it was there. "Oh, I see. So how do you ... "

"Manipulate it? Feel for the edges of the energy." Tony told him.

Steve did so, and after a few moments, managed to, somewhat clumsily, make it spin in place on his palm.

"The more you use the program, the easier it gets to manipulate things." Tony said.

"You get more sensitive to the buzz, right?" Steve guessed.

Tony nodded. "And you stop needing to feel around for the right spot. I've been doing this for years, which is why I can do things so easily. I can alter the design however I want and see how it goes with everything else immediately, instead of having to wait for production or take the time to make a mockup of the piece in question."

Steve grinned. "This is incredible, Tony."


	20. Bruce, Thor, and Loki

Bruce, Thor and Loki

A/N: Disclaimer's in the first chapter.

(_)(_)(_)(_)(_)(_)

Bruce couldn't remember the last time he'd been this happy and content.

He and Betty had cuddled and talked for hours. He'd told her about the places he'd been and the good he'd done. She told him about working at Cheyenne Mountain. And despite the fact that in both cases, they'd both been where they were for not-so-good reasons, they had deliberately not mentioned that part of it.

Eventually, hunger drove them off the couch to the well-appointed kitchen. Bruce had to stare, because the cabinets were stocked with teas, spices, and foodstuffs from the areas he'd been in most recently as well as more standard American fare.

"You know, Tony is a little scary sometimes." Bruce said after a few moments. "In a good way, but scary."

Betty smiled at him. "How about some curry?" She asked.

"Sounds good."

They moved around the kitchen with surprising ease, given they hadn't been around each other in a year. Bruce supposed there were just some things you didn't forget.

"So are you going to be helping with the cleanup?" Betty asked as they were setting the table.

Bruce shrugged. "Not directly, I don't think. I can do more good in the labs, or helping keep things moving here in the Tower." Working here would also keep him safer. He didn't trust Ross as far as he could throw him when not the other guy.

"So do you think he can be worked with?" Betty asked, a faint smile on her lips.

Bruce didn't mistake who she was talking about. Still he shrugged. "I'm really not sure. He recognizes you, and now Tony, and I don't think he'd ever attack either of you, and I can sort of aim him at appropriate targets, but beyond that?" He shrugged again. "I don't know. I just know I'm not going to start experimenting with it somewhere people can get hurt." He snorted. "Doubtlessly, Tony has something worked out, if I ever get the nerve up to try it."

Betty laughed. "He probably does." She agreed.

After they'd eaten, the two of them headed for the labs finally. Bruce could only stare helplessly for several long moments. "Definitely Candyland." He said after a long moment.

The lab, like Bruce's floor, had been built with the presence of the Hulk in mind as much as possible. Most of the bigger machinery was tucked into alcoves and recesses. The rest of it was against the walls or on counters that were against the walls, which reduced the chances of destruction. And every last bit of it was brand new top-of-the-line equipment that Bruce had drooled over before the accident. Things that were largely beyond the budget of most scientists unless they had a seriously wealthy backer. Who wasn't the government or the military. Because the government and the military had a tendency towards providing only the minimum of equipment, and never top of the line unless you were researching something they were VERY interested in.

He grinned at Betty, who grinned back, and they soon lost themselves in putting the various equipment through its paces.

Thor had, along with the other Avengers save Bruce and Tony, headed back out into the city to render assistance where he could. Mjolnir being of but limited use for such endeavors, he had left it behind, safely tucked in his rooms.

Today, after the events in Asgard, Thor chose to work in Loki's general vicinity, the better to watch him. Not for any nefarious purpose, but out of concern for Loki's state of mind. His brother had suffered much in the last year, and Thor would not see him slip into madness or despair if it could be avoided.

In the watching, Thor made two discoveries. One, that his brother's magics were far more complex than he had known or suspected. He had never seen Loki use his magics to levitate anything, for instance, yet he saw Loki do so multiple times over the course of the day, among other works.

The second thing Thor discovered made his blood burn. Loki seemed to take an inordinate pleasure in the awe and praise heaped upon him by the Midgardians with whom he worked. When Thor tried to remember the last time he'd seen such an honestly pleased look on Loki's face, he was horrified to realize that he had not seen such since they were practically infants. It hurt to think on just how much Loki must needs have suffered under the lash of the Allfather's disapproval. For that disapproval had doubtless given all with whom Loki interacted leave to treat him ill. After all, the Allfather knew what he was about, did he not, as King of Asgard?

Unfortunately, Thor was much adrift in these waters. His gifts lay not in the healing of hearts and minds, but in battle. A stout blow with his fist or Mjolnir would solve nothing here. But then Thor thought of Erik, and Darcy, and Jane. They had rendered him assistance on his first sojourn to this world. Mayhap they could assist him with this. It was worth seeking their advice in any case.

That evening, he sought the three of them out. He found them in one of the labs with the assistance of Jarvis. he did not understand Jarvis. It was neither man, nor beast, nor quite machine. Fortunately, Erik and Jane looked to be stopping for the day under Darcy's watchful eye. Jane smiled happily at him when she spotted him, and Thor wrapped her in a hug, then kissed her cheek.

Her forwardness, just before he had left Midgard that first time, had startled him. Maidens in Asgard would never think to do such a thing. Asgardian maids were demure and chaste, desiring to be wooed and won. Even Lady Sif, who had challenged many notions of proper Asgardian female behavior, had been so the few times matters of the heart had come up.

Thankfully, Thor had always been a bit more tolerant of ... unusual behavior, thanks to the Lady Sif, who would have beaten him badly, did he have the temerity to correct her and demand 'proper' behavior on her part. That said, Thor rather liked the more open and honest way Midgardians of both sexes showed their affections. There was something to be said for being able to openly show that someone held your favor.

"Jane, Your pursuits have gone well?" He asked. He had no idea what, exactly, she'd been working on this day, and even if he had, his knowledge of Midgardian 'science' was all but nonexistent, so a general question such as that was the best he could manage.

Jane grinned up at him. "We mostly had fun today." She admitted. "We've never gotten a chance to use some of the equipment in here, so we mostly came up with excuses to do just that."

Thor smiled at her. "I am pleased your day was so pleasant." He said. "Though I must admit to seeking you out with purpose."

His face must have given something of his thoughts away, because Jane sobered. "What's wrong?"

"I would ask your advice." Thor said. "In regards to my brother. I have done him ill, and things between us are ... " Thor sighed. "Rightfully strained. But I know not how to fix things between us. Or help him. He has been dealt terrible blows of late, and unless I much miss my guess, his heart and mind will be calling an account of them ere long."

It was Darcy that spoke up. "Dude. You want to help your brother? The best thing you can do for him is just shut up and listen. Let him do the talking. Don't push him to talk about what happened ... he will when he's ready. Don't try to justify things that happened that bug him. Don't defend what other people said or did." Darcy pointed at him. "And if you really want to help heal the strain between you, show a little interest in his skills. Give him credit for the times he saved your ass one way or another, which I'm sure there has to be at least one case of that."

Thor looked abashed. "Many more than one." He admitted.

Darcy nodded. "Tell him that. Even if it's way the hell after the fact, he'll appreciate it."

"I know you said you told him you don't care about the fact he's Jotun, but reiterating that wouldn't hurt either." Jane said. "I don't know if he's hiding what he really looks like or not?"

"There must be some sort of spell at work, aye. Though that, I will not ask of him. Jotuns can freeze even Aesir limbs with but a touch of their skin. I would not ask him to walk in his Jotun skin when he would must needs fear harming all around him." Thor said.

"Ok, that's a good point." Jane said. "So scratch that idea. But Darcy's right about the rest. Let him talk about things in his own time, and make sure you give him credit where it's due, and keep letting him know you don't care he's Jotun. He's probably going to need to hear that a lot for a while."

Thor kissed Jane's forehead. "I thank you for your counsel, ladies." He told them. "Now, mayhap we should go and find sustenance? If you have been here all day ... ?"

Darcy laughed. "I made sure they got lunch, but yeah, dinner would be good. C'mon, big guy, let's go get something to eat."

They all headed for the elevator. Once within, Thor turned to Erik.

Erik anticipated what Thor intended to say. "I am in agreement with Barton." He said. "I am not overly happy with your brother right now, but I realize he wasn't doing things of his own free will. Still, I don't trust my judgment where he is concerned at the moment."

Thor nodded acceptance of that.

Loki had been aware of the weight of Thor's gaze all day. He could even guess as to the reason why Thor watched him so. Loki still couldn't quite decide whether to be warmed by Thor's concern or thoroughly annoyed.

After a day of labor, Loki hungered for more intellectual pursuits. To that end, he decided to seek out Stark and see if the man would be amenable to a discussion, if nothing else. Stark certainly came the closest to having intelligence enough to keep up with him, and probably even surpassed Loki in certain areas.

"Jarvis." He said when Thor had departed the elevator. "I would speak with your master, if he is available."

There was a momentary pause, probably Jarvis consulting with Stark, before the computer being responded. "Of course, Mr. Friggasson. Sir is in his main lab at the moment." And the elevator descended.

Once the doors opened again, Jarvis spoke a second time. "The door at the end of the corridor, Mr. Friggasson."

"Thank you, Jarvis." Loki said, and headed for the indicated door.

He walked in, and paused for a moment in stunned surprise. Stark was not alone in the room. Rogers was here as well, and the two men seemed to be in the depths of a spirited debate of some sort, both of them fussing with some sort of ... construct ... in the air that looked to be made of light, and gave the form of Stark's suit.

"I still say the slight flat place here and the ridges on the boot top will be enough, Tony." Rogers said, indicating the light construct in two places. He scowled when his touch made the construct rotate.

Stark was clearly used to that happening, because he reached to stop the spin almost automatically. "Enough for an emergency lift for you and Loki maybe. You both have the grip strength to hang on. Everyone else, not so much. We need something a bit more involved to allow them to hang on comfortably. And speaking of, hello Reindeer Games."

Loki headed over, eyes on the construct. "What is this?" Then he glanced around. "And how is it done?"

Stark grinned at him. "This is a holographic display." He said. "And a design program, so I can make alterations to my suits and build new ones easily. As for how it's done, that's a bit more complicated. There are light emitters." He pointed up at the ceiling. "All over up there, so that the holograms can be moved anywhere in the room. The design program has the dimensions of everything, and tells the light emitters what they need to be showing."

Loki was intrigued. "And the purpose of your debate?"

"Trying to figure out a way to make it easy for the non-fliers on the team to hitch a ride on the suit, but not make it easy for bad guys to get a hold of me." Stark said.

"So some subtle change to the suit that the team would know is there, but is not immediately visible to a stranger." Loki said.

Stark grinned. "I *like* you. Yeah, that's the gist. And making sure the team *stays* on. 'cause not everyone has the strength to hang on against the sorts of speeds I can and may have to go in this thing while carrying them, or the maneuvers that I might have to pull."

Loki considered that for several moments. "You have a number of things recessed in the suit." He said, indicating the hologram. "Those of us who cannot fly under our own power all have belts of some sort or another that we wear on our armor."

Stark immediately picked up where he was going with that thought. "Have you guys put a special carabineer on your belts, reinforce the belts, and put a recessed latch somewhere around the waist of the suit. I like it. And it wouldn't be a huge, problematic change to the suits, either." Stark grinned at him. "All right. Let's see. Ok, Jarvis, thicken the waist just a bit here, and ... yeah, that's perfect."

Loki watched in fascination as the hologram shifted and changed, adding a small, hidden panel and what was apparently a latch.

"The only other thing is to increase the power of the jets, but how much is going to have to wait for test runs with the existing jets." Stark looked between Rogers and himself. "How much do you weigh, Loki?"

That stymied Loki somewhat. "I am unsure how much I weigh in your measures." He admitted.

"Huh, that's easy enough to fix. Jarvis?" Stark said.

"Mr. Friggasson weighs three hundred twenty two pounds and five ounces." Jarvis supplied.

Stark's eyebrows went up. "I would not have guessed that." He admitted. "You look like you weight maybe half that. I guess you've got denser bones and muscles than humans. Well, Rogers here only weighs two hundred and a bit, so you get to be the one to stress test the jets, if you're up for it later. I'd have to bring the Mark VII down here first, which I can do in the morning."

"I find myself quite intrigued." Loki admitted. "So I shall put myself at your disposal."


	21. Phil and Remy

Phil and Remy

A/N: Disclaimer's in the first chapter. Phil's section takes place the evening of the day the Avengers left for Asgard. Remy's takes place the morning after the Avengers returned to Earth.

(_)(_)(_)(_)(_)(_)

Phil had had a very, very busy two days while the Avengers were off in Asgard. He'd been overseeing the SHIELD agents that had been trying to sweep the war zone clear of alien tech. This ... had not been easy, given just how many of the small fliers had come through the portal. To say nothing of the foot soldiers. This task had been complicated by needing to figure out what to do with the dead Chitauri. And just how to deal with the positively enormous whale-like creatures that had made it through the portal.

The most obvious and easiest disposal method that had been suggested was cremation, and Phil saw no problem with doing that for the dead Chitauri, minus one sample each of the drivers, shooters, and foot soldiers, so their science and defense divisions could, one hoped, figure out a more effective means to defeat the Chitauri.

The whales, though ... those were another problem entirely. There wasn't anything on the planet that was designed to lift and haul that much weight, and the scientists had had spasms about the things being cut up in order to facilitate their removal. Phil had settled that by giving the scientists until the bulk of the rest of the debris had been cleared to study the whales on site. Or until the things started to reek of decomp, whichever happened first.

That still didn't settle how to deal with the remains once the geeks were done with them, but Phil supposed that if they were cut up small enough, cremation would work just as well for them as for the Chitauri. It'd just take a bit longer to cremate a whole whale.

Much to the pleasure of the geeks, not all of the fliers had exploded into shrapnel. Seven of the rear sleds had been found relatively intact, and a single drive section that must have been pretty close to the ground when it crashed, to not explode. The geeks had their choice when it came to the hand-held weapons, of course.

A little past midday that first day, Phil had received a call from Pepper, warning him that Ross was in the area and trying to get his hands on Bruce. She also told him they needed to talk, later that evening, about something important. Less than five minutes after that, he got a call from Fury, who looked ... displeased, to put it mildly. It didn't take much for Phil to guess the two calls had something to do with each other, and he wondered what on Earth Pepper had said to Fury that had gotten him that wound up.

It was nearly midnight before Phil managed to tear himself away from the frenetic activity on the streets and at SHIELD's NYC HQ. He was just grateful he didn't have to oversee the repairs to the Helicarrier on top of everything else. When he got back to the Tower, he slumped, briefly, against the side of the elevator before pulling himself upright again.

"Jarvis, is Miss Potts still awake and available?"

"Yes, Agent Coulson. She has not yet left her office." Jarvis told him.

Phil mentally winced. And he thought he had it bad. "That floor, please. She said she wanted to talk to me."

Soon enough, he was on the floor with Pepper's office, and made his way there. It was late enough that she had, evidently, dismissed her secretary. Or the secretary had not come in, one of the two. He knocked on the door to warn her, then poked his head in.

"Phil! Come in." Pepper said, her voice warmly welcoming as always.

Phil smiled at her and headed for one of the chairs in front of her desk. Despite her very long day, Pepper looked as though she'd only just gotten into the office, her dress somehow managing to be fresh and crisp and her hair and makeup both remained undamaged.

"You said you wanted to talk to me about something important?" Phil asked. "It wouldn't have anything to do with the fact that Director Fury called me about five minutes after you did, almost literally frothing at the mouth?"

Pepper smiled. "It probably did." She admitted. "You should read this." She handed him a Starkpad with a file on it.

Phil took the file and read it, his eyebrows heading for his hairline. This was ... entirely unexpected. And extremely, extremely good news for himself, Clint and Natasha.

"I had no idea." He said finally. "I wish I had, though."

"I didn't think you did, Phil, but can I ask why?"

"Because of Clint and Natasha." Phil said. "We've been looking for an opportunity to win clear of SHIELD without having to spend our lives on the run for years. Since very shortly after Natasha joined us."

"May I ask why?"

"A number of things. When I joined SHIELD, I thought I would be ... well, doing good things." Phil admitted. "It didn't take me long to realize that things in the agency were ... not right. But by then, it was too late. I wasn't sure I'd be able to disappear and not be pursued. So I stayed, and tried to mitigate as much of the damage as I could."

Pepper nodded.

"Then about eight years ago, Clint was ... recruited. In lieu of being eliminated entirely. I guess Fury didn't want to waste such a good sniper, and hoped Clint could be broken to harness." Phil made a moue of distaste. "He was very, very wrong. It would have been not unlike attempting to break Mr. Stark to harness."

Pepper snorted. "In other words, it was never going to happen, and entirely likely that Clint would have died rather than break."

"Precisely." Phil said. "Clint put three handlers into the infirmary in the space of four months. Fury finally dumped him on my doorstep, and told me, in front of Clint, to either bring him to heel or eliminate the problem."

Pepper looked properly horrified. "Oh my goodness. Well, obviously, you didn't 'break' him. I've seen how he acts with you, if only briefly, and that is not someone who is broken."

Phil smiled. "No, I didn't break him. Didn't even try. It took almost a year, but I managed to get him to trust me. Of course, shortly after that is when we got put on Natasha's trail, with orders to eliminate her. Clint and I both were ... wary ... of the fact anyone knew where she was at all. Up to then, she'd been a ghost. We knew she existed, and we could identify her kills after the fact, but we never knew where she was or where she was headed. When we caught up with her, Clint refused to take the shot. He was convinced she wanted out, and wanted to try to bring her in, because SHIELD might not have been the best place, but it was better than dead."

"I'll bet that caused problems." Pepper said.

Phil laughed. "You have no idea. Of course, most of it was ... not direct and blatantly linked to that incident, because everyone in SHIELD was terrified of Natasha, and she made it quite clear that we were operating under her ... beneficence. Given her reputation, not even Fury wanted to challenge her, back then."

Pepper laughed. "I just bet."

"But eventually, Fury started trying to muck with us again. That's why Natasha was in Russia when this whole mess started, while Clint and I were here in the States. Fury ... made me choose. Forced the issue despite me arguing with him about it. Clint's always been more vulnerable, so I decided to stay here with him to protect him." Phil scowled, remembering how little good that had done.

Pepper correctly divined the cause of that scowl, because she gave him a gentle smile. "It all worked out, Phil. You can't blame yourself for things that are beyond your control."

Phil sighed. "I suppose you're right." He said. "I still don't have to like it." Then he gave himself a mental shake. "So I'm presuming you showed me this to ascertain where myself, Clint, and Natasha's loyalties lay?"

Pepper nodded. "Yes."

"Not with SHIELD." Phil summed up. "It's mostly with ourselves, though Clint and Natasha both trust my judgment when it comes to trusting outsiders and follow my lead."

"Fair enough." Pepper said. "I can't ask for more than this early. Just one last question, and I'm only asking it because I fully expect Tony to ask it when I tell him, so I might as well beat him to the punch. Do you want to be the new Director of SHIELD?"

Phil grimaced. "Hell no. I have enough to do as it is. And since I know Tony fairly well at this point, tell him I'll taze him if he tries to make me director anyway."

Pepper laughed. "I'll do that." Her desk pinged, and something flashed onto the mirrored surface that Phil couldn't read upside down. Pepper smiled at it. "Ahhh, that's the last of it for today. I can shut down now, finally, and get some sleep. Hopefully Tony and the others will be back tomorrow."

Phil got to his feet. "I don't know about you, but I haven't eaten since lunch."

Pepper gave a low laugh. "Neither have I. It's been an insane day. Jarvis? Are the cooks still up?"

"They are indeed, Miss Potts. Shall I have them send something up?" Jarvis said.

"Oh, please. Anything is fine, since I know they've probably been cooking for the relief crews." Pepper said.

"Same for me, Jarvis." Phil said.

After a pleasant dinner with Miss Potts in the penthouse suite, Phil finally made his way to 'his' floor, since Pepper had told him Tony had built him one in the Tower. Phil got one good look at his rooms and laughed, thoroughly amused by the color theme and the overhead catwalks. He'd have to fetch his things from his SHIELD quarters and his small apartment later.

Remy was going to miss the Tower, he thought as he clambered aboard the X-Jet with the others. Despite the fact he ached everywhere from three days of near-constant activity, he'd had fun talking to the Avengers the day of the attack and last night. He was looking forward to spending more time with them over the next few weeks.

But then, he'd always liked Tony and Pepper, since he'd been introduced to them only a couple days after he'd first arrived at the mansion. Tony had shown up to install something, Remy still had no idea what, because it wasn't like there was a dearth of possibilities in the mansion, and the X-Men hadn't been in a big hurry to tell him all their secrets right then. Still weren't, actually.

Of course, the fact he was a thief had come up. Like the X-Men felt they had to warn Tony to guard his silver or something. Tony had given him a look, then asked if he was any good. Of course, Remy had had to brag a bit about his abilities. Not because he thought he was the best, but more because he figured it would piss everyone off. Tony had laughed and told him that if he could manage to break into his Malibu mansion, he'd give Remy a hundred thousand dollars and let him keep something of his choice from the mansion.

Remy was bright enough to smell a rat, so he didn't jump at the opportunity instantly. He would forever be glad he hadn't, because he would have gotten his ass handed to him by Jarvis. Remy was a better than average hacker when it came to security systems and your average computer, but Jarvis was *anything* but either of those.

He'd studied the mansion for nearly six months before he decided he was as ready as he could be to try the place. He'd gotten no end of shit from the X-Men when his trip to California had coincided with Magneto deciding to play god. To say they'd been less than pleased with him for taking off to go *steal* from someone was to vastly understate the case.

Tony, on the other hand, had thanked him for finding the weak spots in the mansion's defenses, and Remy treasured the extremely expensive watch he'd chosen for his prize. He could have taken some piece of art or something, but he really didn't have anywhere to put such things. The watch had been more practical, and nearly as expensive. Tony had even offered him a job as a consultant.

Remy had been tempted to take the offer more than once since. It wasn't that he wasn't grateful to the X-Men for the roof over his head and the food in his belly. They'd taken him in at a particularly bad place in his life, and given him a chance to get his feet under him. That said, he was as poor a fit with the group as Logan was.

The X-Men held to a certain code of morals. And that ... wasn't exactly wrong of them, Remy was willing to admit. The problem was, they tended to get a bit self-righteous with people who had a different set of morals. They either didn't understand or didn't care that both he and Logan hadn't exactly been allowed the opportunity to develop the sorts of morals the X-Men espoused. Logan hadn't had any proof of education, no ID, nothing to allow him to get a 'legitimate' job. Remy had been in nearly as bad a place, as he'd spent more than half his life on the streets, prior to the X-Men taking him in.

Thanks to Jean-Luc LeBeau, Remy at least had adoption papers and ID, but he'd been picked up off the streets at ten, then had to run from New Orleans at fifteen, when his powers manifested and he blew a (thankfully empty) theater to hell and gone, and nearly himself with it, on accident. With only five years of school under his belt, he hadn't exactly been in a position to get a normal job. To make matters worse, his powers had been unpredictable as hell for nearly two years before he'd gotten some sort of control of them. Which meant he'd had to bolt from town to town as he left messes in his wake from accidental explosions. He'd gone right back to stealing, which he'd picked up as a street rat in order to fill his belly, and never looked back.

Tony, on the other hand, really didn't seem to give a shit. Actually, if anything, he thoroughly approved of Remy's rather unorthodox skills, and recognized the sort of intelligence it implied. Remy might not have the paperwork to prove it, but he was far from stupid. Even as a street kid, he'd taught himself to read and do basic math. He'd gone even further after having to leave New Orleans behind. And while it might not impress most people, being a good thief required a certain level of intelligence. Not only to know how to deal with security systems so you didn't get caught in the act, but to know what was worth stealing and what wasn't. To be able to recognize fakes from the real thing.

Ahh well. Unless he missed his guess, Logan was going to be spending a lot of time in the city, talking to Steve Rogers. And if that wasn't a trip and a half, Remy didn't know what was. Remy figured he could tag along and hang out at the same time. Maybe get to know that Romanov gal. He always had liked playing with fire, and the Black Widow was *definitely* dangerous.


	22. Darcy and Clint

Darcy and Clint

A/N: Disclaimer's in the first chapter.

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After she'd managed to chase Erik and Jane out of their lab (with Thor's help), Darcy stopped briefly to get herself something to eat and relax. And contemplate the last few days.

Last year, she'd made a point of reading the Eddas. It hadn't exactly been her cuppa, but in the face of Thor being real, she'd figured any information was better than none at all. She'd come away from that reading with the very, very firm belief that Odin was a rat bastard of the first order, and that it was no small wonder Loki had gone over the deep edge.

She'd also hoped, with everything in her, that most of it hadn't happened. She was sure as could be that Thor never would have been party to some of the shit it was claimed he did to Loki, given how much he cared about Loki, but that didn't mean that someone else hadn't been the one to do it. The worst part was, she was probably never going to know if any of it was the truth, because like *hell* was she asking. Because really, there was just no way to ask 'did you really give birth to a horse?' and *not* mortally offend the person, even if it was true. And really, that was, if anything, the least fucked up thing on the list.

So really, she'd been primed to give Odin a piece of her mind, even before she'd met him and he'd been acting all superior and self-righteous and smarmy. Gah. Definitely a rat bastard. What Frigga saw in him, she'd never know. Maybe she hadn't had a choice? It would make sense that it had been some sort of arranged marriage, given Odin's status and the fact women seemed to be just shy of second class citizens in Asgard.

At least Thor realized now that things had been a little fucked up where Loki was concerned, and was determined to at least try to make things right. She wished him luck, because he was right. Loki had been through some heavy shit, and there was *going* to be a meltdown, sooner rather than later. At least Loki would be here for it, and not in Asgard, where everyone would probably not only ignore his distress, but blame him for everything.

Darcy gave her head a shake. "Jarvis, what time is it?" She asked.

"It is two am, Miss Lewis." Jarvis told her.

Darcy scowled. "And how many of the geek squad are still in their lairs?" She wanted to know.

"Sir, Captain Rogers and Mr. Friggasson are all in Sir's main lab. Doctor Banner and Doctor Ross are in their lab, but Doctor Ross has begun shutting down for the day, and is ensuring Doctor Banner joins her."

"Good on her. I'll go roust the boys out of Stark's lab, though what Rogers is doing down there, I don't know."

"I believe Captain Rogers went down to Sir's lab in order to get to know Sir better. He was provided with ... not precisely erroneous information, but certainly biased, and was endeavoring to find out the truth." Jarvis told her. "Sir has spent most of the day teaching Captain Rogers how to work the holographic interface Sir uses when designing, and debating options for upgrades to a new suit with him. Mr. Friggasson arrived a few hours ago and joined in the debate."

"In other words, they're going to need prying out of there or they'll never leave, because they're having way the hell too much fun." Darcy said.

"That would be a correct and succinct summation of the situation." Jarvis agreed.

Darcy snorted in amusement. "What is it with geeks and playing with new toys?" She wondered aloud, then headed for the elevator.

"The door straight ahead, Miss Lewis." Jarvis told her.

Darcy walked in, and had to laugh. Stark had evidently started teaching both Rogers and Loki how to work the design program, because they were both mucking about with what looked like holographic versions of Stark's suits. Stark himself was working on a third suit, while also keeping an eye on the other two.

"What on earth are you three up to in here?" She asked.

"Sparky? How'd you get down here?" Stark wanted to know. Darcy blinked at the nickname, but decided it was ... fitting.

"Looking for you three. Do you realize what time it is?" She asked.

Stark shrugged. "Don't know, don't care. Busy doing science here!" He flapped a hand at her, as if trying to dismiss her.

Which, of course, she completely ignored. "Yeah, that's what I thought. It's two am. You guys can come back to this in the morning. Didn't anyone ever tell you that it's a spectacularly bad idea to engineer on no sleep? Explosions happen that way." Darcy said.

Rogers seemed willing enough to call it a night. "Two in the morning? Gosh. I had no idea so much time had passed." He glanced up. "Thanks, Jarvis. You can shut this down, now."

"Indeed, Captain Rogers." Jarvis said, and the hologram Rogers had been playing with faded out.

One down, two to go. "Ok, you two. Hit Save, and shut her down for the night, and go get some sleep. You're going to thank me later." She started nudging at Stark, poking him in the shoulder and arm to annoy him into moving. Stark scowled at her for a moment, then huffed.

"I suppose." He pouted. "Jarvis, shut it down. C'mon, Reindeer Games, we can pick this back up in a few hours. I don't think challenging her is the best idea."

That actually made Loki laugh and leave the station he'd been working at. "Indeed. If we do not do as she bids, she may wield her tazer against us."

"I still wish she could have tazed Odin." Tony said, like she wasn't standing right there. Darcy laughed.

"That makes two of us, Stark. Now get a move on. You can play more after you've slept. At least four hours! And a decent breakfast."

"Slave driver." Stark whined, even as he headed into the elevator with the others.

Clint could not believe Stark. He'd spent over an hour poking into every nook and cranny of the floor ... *entire floor* that was his apartment. Stark had spared no expense. Clint had a flatscreen TV bigger than he was, a top-of-the-line stereo system, and a tub that qualified as a pool, among other amenities. The bed alone was worth the price of admission.

The catwalk and platforms were accessible via a number of spots where the walls sported convenient nobs to allow for climbing. And Clint swiftly discovered that the catwalks and platforms allowed for an unobstructed view of the entire apartment. Clint could even get from room to room on the catwalks without having to get down ... there were holes through the bedroom and bathroom walls where he could crawl through on the catwalks.

After a thorough, and delighted perusal of the room he'd been given, Clint had gone back out into the city to help with the cleanup and recovery. But after two days without being able to shoot something ... and wanting very, very badly to shoot Odin, Clint decided he would check out Tony's special shooting range. The only reason he hadn't checked it out when they'd got back had been because he knew himself well enough to know that if it was any kind of awesome, Phil would need some high explosives to get him back out of there. And given that the place had been built by Tony Stark, Clint was betting on it being awesome. He grabbed his bow and quiver, and headed off.

His first clue that he'd completely underestimated Tony came when he got off the elevator in the subbasement and was faced with a seriously heavy-duty steel door. The sort designed to survive blasts at close range. There was a computerized door lock beside it, clear indication that Jarvis was in charge of making sure no one walked in unexpectedly, and that no one that had no business being in there got in there.

The door swung open easily when he approached, and Clint stepped inside, only to stop and stare. The place was as unlike a shooting range as it was possible to get. The typical shotgun range was about two tenths of a mile long, give or take a bit. This? Somehow, and like hell Clint could figure out how Tony managed it, but this looked to be double that, nearly half a mile long. It was also about fifty feet tall and over a hundred feet wide.

But that wasn't the end of it. Because there were platforms and perches of varying sizes *everywhere*. From literally only an inch off the floor to so close to the ceiling he'd have to lie flat on his stomach to fit. And they were made of or covered in various surfaces, from smooth metal, to wood, to gravel and even carpeting. There were also ropes, bars, catwalks and other things scattered all over the place, to allow him to get from one perch to another via a number of the means he usually used to do so in the field, as well as provide obstacles for him to shoot around. The only thing there wasn't, was targets.

"Jarvis, I'm assuming you have access in here." Clint said aloud. "So ... where are the targets?"

"Sir has prepared a number of different kinds of targets for you, Agent Barton. You will find them to your right." Jarvis told him, and a panel that had, until that moment, looked like just another bit of wall popped forward and slid aside.

Inside the closet, or whatever, was a veritable army of targeting dummies. Some of them looked like the sort you just leaned against a wall and shot at, but most of them had electronic components that made Clint suspect that either they had some sort of on-board computer that would move them in pre-programmed ways, or Jarvis could control them. Clint grinned toothily. That ... could prove to be a heck of a challenge. But in a rack near the door was a whole bunch of things that Clint got one good look at and started laughing uncontrollably.

Because they looked remarkably like the little floating ball drone that Luke faced off against briefly in the first Star Wars movie. When Clint managed to calm down enough to talk, he shook his head. "Jarvis, tell Tony he has watched way the hell too many movies." He said. "And then tell me if those things can shoot back."

"I will do so." Jarvis said, sounding distinctly amused. "And they do indeed shoot back, though their shots are not strong enough to do more than sting."

"Just do me one favor, Jarvis." Clint said. "And warn me if Stark has or is about to manage building a functional lightsaber."

"I will do so. Miss Potts has expressed a similar desire to be forewarned in such an event, and I must admit it would seem prudent." Jarvis told him. "Would you like to put the range through its paces?"

"Hell yes, Jarvis." Clint said, and hurried out of the closet to a nearby perch. "Bring it on."

Two hours later, he was sweaty, his entire body was quivering from the effort of shooting and swinging and flinging himself all over the room, and he was riding the sort of adrenaline high he only very rarely managed to get. He'd blown through his quiver of arrows so many times he'd lost count, and he *loved* it. This was better than *sex*.

Clint lay on the last platform he'd used, limp and unmoving for a few moments, catching his breath. "Ok, Jarvis. Put it away. I'll be back down here tomorrow, probably." Like he could stay away from this? Hah. He peeled himself off the platform and made his way out of the range.

He stopped on his floor long enough to take a shower and change clothes, then grabbed a protein bar to tide him over until lunch. "Who all's in the Tower today, Jarvis?" He asked.

"Everyone has elected to take the day off from rescue work, Agent Barton. Sir and Mr. Friggasson are in Sir's main lab. Doctors Banner and Ross are in their lab, and Doctors Foster, Selvig, Thor and Miss Lewis are in theirs. Miss Potts is in her office and Agents Coulson and Romanov are on the fourth floor."

"Ohhh, excellent." Clint said, and headed for the elevator. "Fourth floor, please."

"Of course, Agent Barton."

It didn't take him long to spot Phil and Nat. They were at the center of a conspicuously clear area in what was otherwise a sea of semi-organized chaos. Clint suppressed a laugh and headed over. Nat caught sight of him first, and gave him a small smile.

"Well, you have the look of someone who just had way too much fun." She noted.

"Shooting range." Clint said.

That made even her eyebrows rise. "That good?" Phil asked.

"Better. You two have to check it out sometime. I could spend all day down there."

Phil gave him a distinctly amused look. "Try it and I'll have Jarvis lock you out. Living in a shooting range is not healthy."

Clint mock-pouted. "You never let me have any fun." He accused.

"That is perhaps because your idea of fun does not tally with everyone else's." Phil said, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "But I am pleased you like it so much."

Clint grinned. "It's a sniper's paradise in there. And someone." Here he gave Phil a significant look. "Must have told him about my habits, because it's literally perfect for me." Phil managed to pretend innocence thanks to his ability to keep a straight face, but Clint knew better.

"Well, we were about to head up for some lunch. Care to join us?" Phil asked.

"Sounds like a plan."

The three of them piled into the elevator. "My floor, if you please, Jarvis." Phil said.

Clint snickered. "I love the color theme, sir." He said.

Phil gave him the sort of serene look that actually boded ill for the person it was bestowed on. "I'm sure you do, Agent Barton."

They headed into Phil's kitchen and began preparing themselves a lunch, moving around each other with unconscious ease, each of them automatically taking up certain chores and pulling out ingredients and spices without any need for discussion.

Once lunch was ready, they piled their plates.

"Are we agreed, then?" Phil asked.

Neither Clint nor Natasha mistook what he was asking. SHIELD was no longer a factor, for which Clint would be eternally grateful. That still left them with a choice. They could stay with the Avengers, or go their own way. Clint had little doubt that if that was there decision, Tony would let them go without any of the problems they would have incurred trying to walk away from SHIELD.

Not that it was much of a choice between the two. Because even if you ignored any other factor, saving the world was sort of a hard gig to match. Anything else would be a heck of a comedown, at this point. That they had co-workers they could at least tolerate, and in may cases actively like, was just icing on the cake.

"Yep." Clint said. Natasha nodded her agreement. "Besides, this thing with Thanos ain't over, I'm betting."

"You're not the only one thinking that." Phil agreed. "We will need all the firepower we can get our hands on to win that particular fight."

"No shit. Good thing Tony's in good with the X-Men. That'll help a lot." Clint said.

"Agreed." Phil said. "Though we should perhaps look at trying to network with other hero types. See if any of them are amenable to working for a common cause."


	23. Natasha and Logan

Natasha and Logan

A/N: Disclaimer's in the first chapter. /Telepathy/

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Natasha could get used to seeing Clint so thoroughly loose and happy. He looked very much like a child that just got to raid the toy store. It was a good look on him.

After lunch, Natasha decided to check out the Avengers' gym. Stark had mentioned something about gymnastic equipment, and it had been a long time since she'd been able to avail herself of such things. Besides, Clint wasn't the only one who'd been getting antsy after two days of doing nothing, despite very much wanting to do something.

Frankly, if Darcy hadn't tazed that guard and started bitching Odin out, Natasha would have been going on the attack a few seconds later. Which reminded her. Natasha changed her plans for the afternoon mid-stride.

"Jarvis, main lab level please."

"Of course, Agent Romanov." Jarvis said.

Natasha ignored the door straight ahead and turned to the one to the right, where Foster's lab was at. The three main labs for the three groups of geeks were all on the same floor, though how Stark had managed that, and insulated things enough so that the other two labs weren't subjected to his eardrum-bursting levels of music, she wasn't quite sure. She poked her head in the door.

"Lewis!"

Darcy turned from where she'd been idly watching the geeks play with their toys and talking to Thor. "Yeah?" She said, and came over.

"You've got some fire in you." Natasha told her. "You ever take any self-defense classes?"

Darcy nodded. "A few." She said. "I generally prefer my tazer though ... doesn't give 'em the chance to get in grabbing range."

Natasha smiled slightly. "It does at that." She agreed. "Want to learn a few moves?"

Darcy gave her a wide-eyed look. "Dude, are you offering to teach me your super spy ninja moves?"

Natasha had to work not to laugh at Darcy's rather eager (and fairly accurate) summation. "Yes."

Darcy squeaked and bounced. "Heck yes! Definitely!"

Natasha nodded. "Go get changed and meet me on the gym floor." She said.

Darcy sped out of the lab and joined her in the elevator, splitting off at her floor to change. Natasha went on and headed for the gym, making sure the sparring mats were clear of obstructions. Darcy bounced into the room, looking eager. Natasha eyed her outfit.

"That the best bra you've got?" Natasha asked.

Darcy nodded. "Yeah."

Natasha snorted. "I'll show you where to shop for a better one. I get mine there." She knew the pain of being fairly well-endowed and trying to pull off gymnastic moves. You needed a damn good bra or you'd end up being very, very sorry later. Not the most glamorous aspect of learning to fight, but it had to be taken care of.

"Dude, I will thank you forever. I hate how much I wobble even in most sports bras." Darcy said.

Natasha nodded. "All right. Get warmed up, and I'll see what you already know. We can go from there."

Darcy proved to have a fairly average level of flexibility, and a slightly above average knowledge of self defense moves. She also had a much higher than usual ability to make shit up as she went, and readily made use of unconventional items to defend herself with. That bent towards pragmatism would serve her well, as many people tended to get stuck in the formalized, accepted defense strategies and couldn't adapt when the shit inevitably hit the fan. Darcy would never reach Natasha's level, of course, but there was plenty of room for improvement.

"All right. With some work and dedication, you will be pretty formidable." Natasha said. "You've certainly got the will to go on the offensive." Natasha favored Darcy with a small smile.

"Dude had it coming." Darcy said.

"Yes, he did." Natasha agreed. "Now, let's get down to work."

Rogue was waiting right outside the door to the jet bay when it opened. Logan huffed a laugh and hugged her. "Take it you missed me?"

"More like I wasn't invited to the party the others decided to throw while you guys were away." Rogue said.

For half a second, Logan thought she was serious, but a closer look at her face told him she was yanking Cyke's chain. He grinned down at her and ruffled her hair.

"Logan." Came Jean's worried rebuking whisper.

Logan completely ignored her, as he always did when it came to this. He was beginning to suspect that Jean was the reason Cyke was so uptight, if she got her panties in a wad over powers that weren't under perfect control. Though that just raised the question of why Cyke was with her. Guess love made a man stupid.

"C'mon, kiddo. I'll tell you about everything that happened while we were gone."

Rogue grinned at that, and tagged along behind him as they headed upstairs. They hadn't gone more than about fifteen feet when John slouched around the corner.

"Pyro." Logan greeted the kid.

He'd noticed John mostly because he tagged along behind Bobby a lot, and Bobby had to be surgically removed from Rogue most days. Hadn't taken much to see the kid was angry as hell at the world and needed an outlet for it. He'd clearly not been getting it from the other adults in the mansion. Logan hadn't had a problem dealing with him.

"C'mon, let's head out by the lake." He said, and led the way. They ended up collecting Bobby as they went. Logan snorted in amusement at that. Kid really seemed taken with Rogue. And not fussed with the whole skin thing, which given he was a teenage boy was something of a miracle. Logan might not be able to remember being that age, but he didn't really need to. He had a nose. He knew just how often teenage boys' thoughts headed certain directions.

The moment they settled on the edge of the lake, John took his lighter out and lit it, smiling as he started playing with a little ball of fire.

Logan and John had a deal. John could play with his fire when they were out here to his heart's content, and Logan would trust him to know his own ability to keep it under control. They'd struck the deal mostly because the kid had a tendency to repetitively click his lighter, which got on Logan's last nerve inside of about fifteen seconds. Logan was nothing if not pragmatic, so he'd decided to treat John like he knew his ass from his elbow until he proved otherwise.

Thus far, there hadn't been a problem. And there had been more than one day when John was so agitated he couldn't sit still. Logan had a feeling that was at least part of the problem John had with the other X-Men. He, unlike most of the kids here, had been on the street for a while, fending for himself, making his own decisions. Going back to being a 'normal' teenager with bedtimes and such enforced by adults was ... not really working for him, and made him resentful.

He told them about the last few days in detail. A lot more than the X-Men would probably think was wise, but shit, Rogue and John had seen some nasty shit, and while Bobby was more innocent, he had a tough core to him. They'd be fine.

"Damn." John said when Logan finally wound to a stop. "Wish I could have been there."

Logan snorted. "We could have used you, kid. All three of you. Weren't no lack of targets to take down, lemme tell you." He shrugged. "You might get a chance at it sometime. Seemed ta be the general opinion that the guy that sent the army'd be back, with more, at some point."

"They'll never let us. We're just *kids*." John said, his tone full of disdain.

"Might not be when the time comes." Logan pointed out. "You're what, a month or so from seventeen?" He pointed at John, then to the other two. "And they're not much behind you. Nobody knows when this joker'll come around again, but everyone who thinks he'll be back thinks it'll take a bit. He has a long way to come to try a second time, without the portal."

"So we might be of age by then." John said. "And even if we're not, seventeen and a bit's close enough to make a good argument." He grinned.

"I can teach you a few things between now and then. And we can talk to Stark, see if he can come up with something more reliable and less easily lost than a lighter for you to use." Logan agreed easily. "Like I said, we could use you, when it comes to that. Could use all the kids who can control their mutations. 'cause if this guy comes around with any bigger of an army than the one we dealt with, we'd be in trouble."

John and Bobby got to talking about the whole thing, and drifted off after a little bit, arguing amiably. Logan smirked over at Rogue.

"Works every time." She said. "Give them something to argue about, even playfully, and they forget the rest of the world exists. If I didn't know for sure otherwise, I'd suspect ... " She trailed off, and shook her head. "But I do know better, so they just like arguing."

Logan chuckled. "Yeah, they do. Does Bobby good, and gives John an outlet for all that energy of his."

Rogue nodded, then sobered. "You really think they wouldn't mind me over there?"

Logan snorted. "Know it for a fact. I stood there and watched as Stark flew up to Hulk pretty as you please, after the fight, fearless as anything, and started joking with him, then bundled him up and carried him off when he switched back to Banner. If he ain't afraid of the Hulk, he's not gonna think twice about you, or even me. And the others seemed to be pretty blase about things too. Hank, Kurt, and Warren got a few stares, but that was over quick and nobody treated them shitty."

Rogue nodded. "That's good to hear." She said. "Especially since I think you're going to want to hang around with them a lot. I'd like to meet 'em. Especially Rogers." More because he'd known Logan so long ago, rather than because he was Captain America.

"I'm gonna be headin' back up in two days for my stint with cleanup, according to Cyke's little schedule. Wanna come with me then?" Logan asked.

Rogue nodded. "Sure!"

/Logan, a few moments of your time, when you have a chance?/

Logan grimaced. "Chuck's calling. Better head in."

Rogue nodded and got to her feet, tagging along behind him as he made his way towards Charles' office, though she split off partway to go watch TV with some of the other kids.

Logan closed the office door. "Guessin' you wanna talk about what I found out while I was in New York?" He asked.

"I am more interested in making sure you are handling the discovery." Charles said. "Finding something out about yourself after so long would be ... a bit overwhelming."

Logan shrugged. "Woulda been worse if it was bad news. It wasn't." Well, mostly. He was still Not Thinking about the whole seventy years ago part of the equation. That ... that was going to take some time to deal with the implications of it.

Charles contemplated him for a few moments, then spoke again. "You're considering leaving the mansion permanently."

"Crossed my mind." Logan admitted. "I don't really fit here, Chuck. I'm not a nice man, and it's causin' problems."

Charles sighed. "I was afraid of that. I'll make you a deal, Logan." And here he smiled at using the same phrase he'd first used to get Logan to stay in the mansion six months ago. "Stay until the end of the school year, so Rogue's schooling isn't interrupted, and I won't try to argue you out of it, even if I think you could do as much good here as there."

At least Chuck had the decency to not even try to pretend Rogue wouldn't be going with him. Some of the others might not get it, but Chuck did, thanks to the telepathy. Logan nodded. "Fair enough."

"I have a feeling you might not be the only one headed the Avengers' way, either." Charles admitted.

Logan nodded. "The Cajun seemed right interested." He agreed.

"Well, that is all I wanted to ask. Please don't hesitate to seek me out if you begin to have difficulties, or start remembering things now that you have someplace to start looking." Charles said.

Logan nodded. "I'll do that." Even if he probably wouldn't. But then, Charles knew that. Logan waved and then headed out, to get a smoke before he prowled the perimeter.

He'd developed something of a habit here, most evenings. He'd smoke a cigar, then prowl the entire perimeter. Then he'd check the mansion itself, making sure everyone was where they were supposed to be. That this routine meant he didn't get to bed until two or three in the mornings most days, and thus didn't sleep much, was just a side benefit. Logan avoided sleeping when he could, since he invariably ended up tearing the bed to hell and gone and scaring everyone in the same wing if he slept for more than about three hours a night. It would be nice if that changed, but he doubted it ever would.


	24. Logan and Charles

Logan and Charles

A/N: Disclaimer's in the first chapter. I want to make it clear that I'm not trying to make the X-Men out to be bad guys with the next couple chapters. They are good people who do good things, and overall I adore them. Unfortunately, it's a fact that the X-Men tend not to do well when it comes to dealing with people whose lives have not allowed them the luxury of developing 'normal', 'appropriate' morals.

/Telepathy/

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When it was all over, Logan would just be grateful it happened outside.

It started simply enough. Logan'd been out by the lake again, leaning against a tree smoking a cigar and winding down from the last few days. John'd found him there sometime after breakfast, and had settled in nearby, sitting at the base of another tree, quietly messing about with his fire. They'd neither of them bothered with talking. It was one of the things Logan liked about the kid. A lot of folks felt the need to chatter at you because silence felt awkward to them. Logan wasn't one of those people, and he appreciated it when he ran across someone else who was the same way.

John'd been out there maybe a half hour when Jean came stalking through the trees with the air of a woman on a mission. She stormed right up to John before Logan quite realized what she was up to and started yelling at him at the top of her lungs.

"John! You irresponsible idiot! What have we told you? What have we told you? You are not to use your powers anywhere except the Danger Room, and even then only under strict supervision!" Jean bawled. "How many times have we gone through this? Why can't you just do as you're told for once?" And then she hauled back and slapped John's lighter out of his hand.

Logan was moving before the first sentence was completely out of her mouth, because John was giving her a deer-in-the-headlights look that he'd never seen on the kid's face before. Logan could literally see the situation going tits up before it actually did. Because John, who was normally loud and brash and angry, was unexpectedly plastering himself against the tree behind him, curling in on himself protectively. When Jean slapped at him, all hell broke loose.

Because Pyro started to live up to his name.

Like a lot of mutants, Pyro was completely immune to his own power ... he couldn't burn himself. He used that to good effect either instinctively or deliberately, Logan wasn't sure which, because his entire body was abruptly wreathed in flames. Jean instantly backpedaled, helped by a vicious shove from Logan.

At that, she was lucky. She wasn't a complete stranger, or worse, an enemy. So Logan's claws weren't out. But that was as lucky as she got, because she was now in a position that Mystique, Sabretooth and even Magneto could have told her was a bad position to be in. Because Logan was seeing her as a threat.

Logan put himself between John and Jean, all his attention on Jean. His head was lowered, body hunched and coiled, hands balled into fists and wrists at the angle that allowed him to pop his claws. At that moment, he resembled a predator that had spotted wounded prey and was about to pounce. Thankfully, Jean's lizard brain recognized the danger even if the rest of her didn't, and she froze in place on the ground.

There was only one problem. John might be immune to his power, but the tree he'd been leaning against for damn sure wasn't. The thing had gone up in flames more or less instantly, and the fire was spreading fast. Despite having all his attention on Jean, Logan could feel the heat blistering his back and the backs of his legs and threatening to make his clothes combust. Unfortunately, there really wasn't a damn thing he could do about the situation.

Fortunately, the rather visible pillar of flame garnered a lot of attention. Bobby came flying towards them, wide-eyed in alarm, and started flinging ice in a wide ring around the existing conflagration, trying to keep the fire from spreading. Ororo wasn't more than ten seconds behind him, flying in on the wind as the sky darkened and a deluge started.

Rogue, who must've been with Bobby when the fire started, arrived next with Scott on her heels.

For a few moments, there was utter chaos as rain and ice water doused everything and Scott tried to figure out what the hell was going on. The water apparently shocked John out of whatever flashback he'd been having, or whatever the deal had been there and he pulled his fire back. With apparent backup arriving, Jean recovered from her temporary bout of sanity regarding being very leery of a highly pissed and protective Logan and decided to open her mouth again.

"John was ... " She started.

Logan was having *none of it*. "Muzzle your bitch, Scott, before I do it for you." He snapped.

Scott was a lot of things, but a complete idiot wasn't one of them. Logan could count the number of times he'd called Scott by his proper name on one hand with fingers left over. So Scott knew him using his real name now was an indication of how serious the situation was. How close Logan was to smacking Jean unconscious.

"Jean, that's enough." Scott said. "Go inside. We'll sort this out with Charles once everyone's calmer."

Logan snorted in disgust as she quieted down and stomped off, singed ego and righteous anger almost visible in her wake. Once she was gone, Logan turned to John, who was rather pasty-faced. "You ok, kid?"

John swallowed hard. "I ... yeah. I'm fine."

And that was bullshit if Logan had ever heard it. John looked like he was about five seconds from bolting. Logan gave another snort. "Rogue, go pack our shit and head for the truck." He told her, meaning the truck he'd bought to replace the one that got blown up when they'd met. "C'mon, kid. Last place you need to be right now is here. Rogue and I were planning on heading for Stark's in the morning anyway. Might as well go early."

John gave Logan a flat look. "They won't want me around." He snapped. "No one ever does after this shit happens."

Logan barked a laugh. "Which part of me tellin' you that Stark rooms with the guy that can become the Hulk if he has a bad day didn't you hear, John?" He wanted to know. "Stark won't give a shit, and the others ain't exactly in a position to throw stones. I'm fairly sure they all have body counts higher'n yours."

To his surprise, John actually flinched. Logan blinked. Well shit, no wonder the kid had so many problems in general and here in particular, if he'd killed someone somewhere along the way. Logan wasn't too worried about it, because the kid clearly didn't like that it had happened from the way he'd reacted.

"Anyway, go pack your shit and meet Rogue in the garage. We'll head for the city as soon as I'm done with Chuck."

John gave a grim nod and headed off, Bobby trotting along behind him, looking concerned. Logan shook his head and headed for Charles' office.

Charles maintained a light awareness of everyone in the mansion. He mostly monitored for mood, as a sudden shift was usually precursor to some sort of trouble. Thus, he was aware of Jean's agitation and anger, but not the cause of it. Given that it was increasing, Charles had begun to focus more of his attention in her direction, wondering what was amiss.

Then John's panic, fear, and general distress slammed into him like a tidal wave. It took Charles a few seconds to sort things out as everyone suddenly reacted to something Charles couldn't see or hear with his own eyes from his office. When he finally won a clear look at the situation, it was from Ororo's eyes.

It was not a comforting tableau. Logan was radiating the sort of barely contained violence that he had exhibited in defense of Rogue six months prior, and all his attention was locked on Jean. Jean was on her back, propped on her elbows and staring at Logan and John. John was backed against a tree, the tree and an ever-increasing circle around him enveloped in flames, including himself.

Charles couldn't get a sense of what had precipitated the incident, unfortunately, but Logan's focus on Jean and his angry demand to Scott made it clear that she was probably the precipitant. /Jean, come to my office. Now./ Charles said, backing up Scott's order.

It took a few minutes for everyone to arrive. Charles strongly suspected that Logan had delayed long enough to reassure himself as to John's condition before heading for Charles' office. The tension already present in the room ratcheted up several levels when Logan finally did step in. Even Charles found himself responding atavistically to the threat a part of his brain insisted that Logan presented, despite Charles knowing better.

"What happened?" Charles asked.

Jean immediately opened her mouth to speak, only to snap it shut at a basso growl from Logan.

"John and I were out by the lake." Logan growled. "Kid and I have a deal. He can play with his fire so he don't annoy the hell out of me clicking his lighter constantly, and I'll trust he knows what the hell he's doin'." Logan's accent was coming across stronger thanks to his irritation. "We've been doin' it that way for months with no problem, and a couple times, the kid's been so agitated he could barely see straight."

That news was no surprise. Charles had been aware of, pleased by, and completely in favor of the relationship between Logan and John. John had needed, badly, someone who could reach him and teach him and guide him effectively.

"Everything was fine until she came barreling out, screaming like a banshee." Logan growled, indicating Jean. "She slapped the kid's lighter out of his hand, and everything went to hell."

Given the emotions Charles had picked up off of John, it was possible the boy'd had a flashback. His life prior to being brought to the mansion certainly provided more than enough fodder for one.

Logan focused on Charles. "I dunno what the fuck her problem is, but you need to put a muzzle and a leash on her, before she drives someone right to Magneto. She's been giving Rogue shit from the word go, about her powers, about hanging with me, and anything else she could think of. As it is, deal's fucking off. If she's gonna start pushing buttons this hard, I'm gone before I do something we all end up regretting. And Rogue and John are coming with me, because like fuck John needs to be around her right now, and like fuck I'm leavin' Rogue to her tender mercies."

So saying, Logan stormed out.

Charles got a brief explanation of what they'd seen once they arrived from the others, then dismissed them, and regarded Jean sadly.

"Jean. We have spoken about this." He said quietly, disappointedly.

From a certain perspective, Charles really couldn't blame her for being twitchy about uncontrolled mutations. Telepathy was hell on the mutants that had it until they learned some sort of control, and Jean's manifestation of telepathy had been rather more traumatic than most, spurred as it was by the death of her childhood friend. That sort of thing left scars on the psyche. Charles had tried to soothe the trauma and resultant fears, but Jean still had ... moments. Especially with those children who had especially devastating powers, like Rogue and John. And Scott. Scott, though, was sturdy and practical enough to shrug off her moments of panic, and in many ways, shared her concerns due to the uncontrollable nature of his own mutation, and the devastation he'd wreak if he opened his eyes unprotected for even part of a second.

Unfortunately, from another perspective, Logan was completely right. Jean's tendency to handle this particular subject badly had the potential to drive a child away, and straight into the camp of someone who would encourage them to use their power for less than savory purposes, whether that was Magneto or someone else.

Charles had lost Erik to rage and despair. He did not plan to lose anyone else.

"I think it is time we began your sessions again, Jean. This problem is clearly not fixed." He said.

Jean sighed and nodded. Charles didn't mistake it for agreement, merely concession. She would probably never entirely agree that her issues with uncontrolled mutations needed fixing.

Logan didn't have very long to wait at all in the garage before both Rogue and John came trotting out, Rogue carrying two duffel bags (one his, one hers), John carrying a duffel and a hiker's backpack that had definitely seen better days.

Rogue tossed a shirt at him when she got close enough. "Better change. That one's full of holes in the back, and is gonna draw attention."

Logan snorted, but stripped off the shirt he was wearing and pulled the new one. Once he'd gotten the old one off, he saw what she meant. The thing had mostly been hanging on by dint of sheer willpower, as most of the back had been burned away thanks to him being so close to the fire.

John saw the remains of Logan's shirt and blanched even further than he had been already. "Oh, shit. God, Logan, ... "

Logan cut him off. "Shaddup, John. You didn't hurt me." Well, not really. Took a bit more than being singed to register as full-on pain in Logan's books. "Throw your stuff in the back and get in."

John did as he was told, and ended up sandwiched between Logan and Rogue. From the look on her face, it was completely deliberate on Rogue's part. Logan didn't really blame her. John had that glassy-eyed look that said he might be headed into shock, and reminding him he was 'safe' and keeping him warm (which was a hell of an irony considering the kids' power) were a good idea.


End file.
